Inclination
by Renskallius
Summary: Malfoys and Weasleys have been rivals for generations. Yet fate can be a fickle creature; it may be the reason for the aligning of two unlikely minds as they ponder the mystery of their school's Sealed Dungeon. Or perhaps it was simply curiosity's inclination. (Scorose, long multi-chapter, backbone plot)
1. The Year Begins

**IMPORTANT!:** The first few chapters are a bit slow in order for me to properly set the scene, characters, and relationships. So hang in there!

**Hi everyone! This is, in truth, my first Scorose fanfic, and my first time writing in a while. So, I do apologize if my writing starts off as a bit rough- it may take time for me to get warmed up.**  
**I've only been a Scorose shipper for a few weeks, but I've already blown through a large portion of the fics in the fandom. And, increasingly, I began to notice that there weren't very many multi-chapters, most of which concerned only the romance plot-wise. **

**So, hopefully this fic will be a bit of a breath of fresh air for the avid Scorose fans. I'll speak more after the goodies. Without further ado, here's the story!  
**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: I altered what happened previous to the train's departure a bit in a cannonical sense. Please read while keeping in mind that in this AU, Ron warned Rose of the Malfoy boy but didn't point him out, so she has no idea what he looks like.**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 1**_

* * *

Rose Weasely realized her hope for a spectacularly memorable first trip on the Hogwarts express was quickly shattered within moments of stepping onto the train. Sure, it could have been a whole lot worse- she could have stepped on someone's pet toad, or accidentally have walked into a compartment full of seventh years of the opposite gender like her cousin James did. Still, it could have gone a little bit better.

First, her shirt got caught between the exit doors as she hurriedly climbed aboard, and spent a few embarrassing moments trying to yank it free (thank the powers-that-be that Albus wasn't around for that, or she would never hear the end of it).

Next, having been separated from her cousins in the rush to board the train in the final seconds before departure, she had to push her way down the rather crowded and narrow walkway (honestly, couldn't people find better places to stop and chat?) and continually peek into each coupe in turn to check its inhabitants for familiar faces. Twice, Rose found herself peeping into a gross session of snogging between couples; on the latter, she had to do a double take as she realized that one of the duos were her cousin Victorie and her uncle's godson, Teddy (would that make him her god-cousin?). _Great, now I've got that scarred onto my retinas for eternity._ Couldn't they at least pull the blinds down?

When she finally found her other cousins (thankfully none of which were romantically involved), they were practically on the other end of the train from where Rose had started. When the door slid open to their compartment, Albus looked up and smiled at his red-headed relation. "Hey Rose! We were wondering where you got off to. Come on, James, shove over your case so she can sit."

Finally seated among people whom she knew, Rose breathed a small sigh of relief. Surely, now, the ride would be straightforward and pleasant and there would be no reason to mingle among the strangers who still littered the halls like stray cats. Albus began unwrapping the simple lunch his parents had packed, the foil crinkling loudly in the comfortable silence.

"So, uh, James," Rose began after a few minutes, "I thought you would be sitting with your own friends?" The cousin in question was starting his third year, and had long since formed a group of close companions. The more she thought about it, the more Rose wondered why he'd be hanging around his quiet younger brother and smart-aleck cousin.

The messy-haired Potter, so alike to his name sake, gave a careless shrug as if it were no big deal. "Since this is your and Albus's first year, and knowing how shy you can be around strangers, I figured I'd come and keep you company on the trip. Or part of it, anyways. I can always catch up with my friends later."

"I am not shy," Rose sharply corrected. "I just prefer to stay away from people. They tend to be idiots."

At that moment, the door to their compartment slid open once more. To their surprise, an unfamiliar face stood before them. His hair was a pale blond, easily the most memorable attribute, with stormy gray eyes beneath a slightly furrowed brow. For a few moments, the stranger just stood there, eyes flickering to each of the inhabitants in turn. When he did finally speak, the edge in his voice was thinly concealed: "So it's true. The famous Potters and yet another Weasely have graced the train."

James looked up from the book he was reading, a bored expression on his face. "I'm sorry," he said, sounding anything but apologetic, "But who, might I ask, are you?"

The blond ignored the question, instead flickering his gaze to the two first years. "Just so you know, since you're going to be new this year, don't expect everyone to bow and scrape to you just because your parents were so special. Nobody owes you anything."

His statement was met with a snort from the eldest Potter. "Obviously you felt that you owed us your attention. Should we feel pleasantly surprised at this shocking turn of events? I assure you, we were getting along quite fine without your unwanted input on society's expectations of us, especially coming from a first-year."

Rose tried unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle.

The stranger's face hardened from its former expression of casual flippancy. "You think you're so great, don't you, Potter?" he spat. The venom in his words felt so sharp that Rose found herself leaning back from the open doorway. "Just because your father defeated that stupid old wizard, you think that the world owes you something. Newsflash: it doesn't." With that, the compartment door slammed shut, leaving the two first years wide-eyed at the unexpected exchange and flash of anger directed at their family.

James, on the other hand, appeared none the worse for wear, bringing his feet up onto the empty seat next to him and turning to the next page of his book. Without looking up, he spoke; "Don't let it bug you. I've gotten at least one angry kid in here every train ride since first year, and a few within a week of school. Some of them are sons or daughters of former death eaters; others are just envious of our parents' social stand and what they might mean for us."

Having quickly composed herself, Rose sent Albus a pointed look. "See what I mean? I can't deal with people. They're idiots."

Her shy, quieter cousin was eager to change the subject from the shaky encounter. "James, what's the sorting ceremony like exactly?"

His brother groaned. "You've been told round about half a dozen times in the last month alone, Al!"

"Yeah, but…just one more time? To make sure I'm prepared?"

Everyone who knew Albus Severus Potter were often reminded of two things: one, that he hated being called Al; and two, that he adored his older brother, who was the only one Albus allowed to call him by that nickname.

"Alright, alright," James relented, unable to hold back a smile at the eager expression on his brother's face. Rose leaned in to listen, every bit as nervous and excited for the famed ceremony as her cousin. "Traditionally, it's carried out by the assistant headmaster, but when old McGonagall was promoted to position of Headmistress around seventeen years ago, she couldn't let go of that role she had played for nearly half a century. Nostalgia, I suppose, although I never would take her for the sentimental type—"

"James," Albus coughed, breaking the tangent before it could run.

"What? Right, sorry. The first years, as you know, are taken to the castle by the boats and subsequently arrive a short time after the other students have been seated. Your lot will be called in soon after arrival, where you'll be made to stand in front of the Grand Table and await your turn with the Sorting Hat. They'll call students up alphabetically, so Rose will probably be the last to go up."

The red-head hadn't really thought of that. While, yes, she was anxious about her own sorting, she felt the longer she would be made to wait, the higher her chance would be of making a run for it. For months, Rose had had terrible nightmares about her sorting—what if she was sorted into Slytherin? She knew her parents would always be proud of her, but she doubted she could ever get along with them. Or worse, what if she couldn't be sorted at all? Suppose they sent her right back home on the train, with a note to her parents explaining that she couldn't possibly go to Hogwarts because she didn't fit in any house? She gulped aloud.

Rose knew that Albus held a similar fear. It gave her a little comfort knowing that she wasn't alone in her worry. Besides, most witches and wizards were probably nervous about sorting—right?

She was snapped out of her thoughts when there was a knock on the compartment door, and it slid open to reveal an old, homey face. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

James looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "Rose, which way did that blond boy leave?"

Surprised by the unexpected question, she blinked a few times. "Uh, left, I think. Why?"

The devious smile that had begun to spread across his face disappeared. "Oh, never mind then. I was thinking if he was behind us, then we could take a leaf out of my dad's book and buy the lot."

Ignoring the scowl of the trolley lady, the curly red-head shook her head. _Just the sort of thing a Potter would do_. "Yeah, but then everyone else behind us wouldn't get anything either. Honestly, James, think ahead a bit besides your own plans for revenge."

"Are you kids going to get anything or not?" The mildly irritated trolley lady interrupted. _No doubt harkening back to when another certain first year spoiled lots of kids' hopes for candy._

James rolled his eyes before buying for himself a carton of Bertie Bop's Every Flavor Beans. As he sank into a light argument with Albus over his brother's choice in candy ("Nobody actually likes Licorice Wands! We can't be related."), Rose tuned them out and turned to her own thoughts. Ever since she was little, most people had treated her with decent courtesy and some amount of respect. She had never faced someone as unfriendly as the boy from earlier, and a part of her wondered if what he said might be true: did people only treat her well and respect her because of her parents' fame? Rose reflected on her earlier belief that her first ride on the Hogwarts Express would not be spectacularly memorable. She wondered if she had been wrong.

* * *

"Firs' years! Firs' years, with me!"

The youngest students flocked to Hagrid as if he were a lifeline. Rose couldn't blame them- in the confusion of several hundred students exiting the train onto the Hogsmeade platform, it was almost as if she were drowning in a sea of black robes. The fresh-faced eleven year-olds grouped around the massive half-giant, staring up at him in wonder. Rubeus Hagrid was well on in his age, his formerly bushy, deep bown beard now a dull gray. Though he was slightly stooped, he still towered over even the tallest seventh years, and was still as fiercely loyal to Hogwarts as he had been since he was 13.

Upon noticing the familiar red-head girl, Hagrid gave a slight wave, but made no other move to embrace her. Rose was thankful for that- after her experience with the blond boy earlier, she wasn't sure if she wanted her future classmates to know who she was yet.

Waving goodbye to Albus with a "See you soon!" (James had run off to join a carriage with his friends), Rose split up from her cousin as they followed the large group of first-years down to the lake shore. Climbing into one of the dozen empty boats, she carefully sat down as it wobbled. Thankfully, she noticed the boy from earlier (she really needed to figure out his name so she could mentally call him something besides "blond boy") had stepped into a different boat quite a ways from hers. It would be just her luck to be forced into one with that idiot.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when her boat rocked slightly and three others climbed in. One of them, a dark-haired girl with green eyes and pale skin, gave Rose a shy smile. "Hi. I'm Katie. That is, Katie McMoore."

Rose returned the smile and graciously shook the girl's hand. "Rose Weasely, nice to meet you."

There were two others in the boat: a dusky-headed boy with olive complexion and warm brown eyes, who introduced himself as Cormsc; and a quiet black girl with her raven-dark hair in a neat braid. She gave no name and largely stayed out of the polite conversation. By the time they pulled up to the boathouse, the remaining three had been acquainted.

With every step she took up the smooth, time-worn steps to the Great Hall, Rose grew more anxious. Again, her worries from the past few months resurfaced. What if she couldn't be sorted? Or what if the sorting hat stuck her in a random house because it couldn't decide? As the first years waited in silence in the Reception Hall to be omitted for the ceremony, Rose scanned the heads of students. She saw Albus only a few feet away. Towards the back of the crowd, she also recognized the blond boy from earlier. His face was creased in a frown, and his mind seemed a thousand miles away.

The great doors opened with a creak, and the students' attentions snapped from wherever their previous thoughts were. Professor Dolvowitz, the assistant headmaster, ushered the first-years into the Great Hall, a friendly smile cracking his wrinkled old face in two. "Come now, the ceremony is to begin!"

* * *

Standing before the steps of the Great Table, Rose wasn't sure if she wanted to postpone her own sorting or to just get it over with. Certainly, other first years must have been feeling similarly to her, if the occasional shuffle of feet and staring at the ground was anything to go by. Rose closed her eyes for a moment, blocking out the first few names as they were called out, willing her pounding heart to slow. _It's just a house, it doesn't define you. Well, it does, but it doesn't make me who I am. Right? I'll just go where I'll belong most._

"Corgedeon, Cormac!"

Her eyes snapped open at the familiar name. The dusky-haired boy from her boat stepped forward, slowly making his way up to the wooden stool. Rose wondered if he was just a slowly and purposeful guy, or if he was as scared as she was.

The sorting hat was placed on his head, and Cormac made a weird expression, like someone had just stuck gym socks that hadn't be washed in a week under his nose. Rose would have given almost anything to know what the hat had said to him to make such a face. After about twenty seconds, the hat finally raised its voice. "...lot like your father, eh? Better make it _Ravenclaw!_"

Judging by the brief look of relief on Cormac's face, Rose would have guessed that the boy's wish for house had been granted, and he soon joined the other Ravenclaws under the blue and bronze banners.

It was curious to watch the sorting, and for a few minutes it preoccupied Rose's mine from her own turn coming up. Sometimes the hat seemed to know exactly where to put people within a second of touching her head, like Jude Brown (who went to Hufflepuff). Others took longer, upwards of fifty seconds- Rose wondered if that was because they could fit into multiple houses, or didn't quite fit in any. The black girl who had been in her boat earlier, Marigold Levotte, who went to Slytherin, was one such student.

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

Rose could have sworn that she heard a few muted whispers across the room, and was surprised when the blond boy from the train stepped forward. _He's a Malfoy?_ Of course she knew who the Malfoys were. Her father only told stories of his family's rivalry with them half a thousand times. And didn't he specifically warn Rose that there would be one in her year? The more she thought about it, the more Rose realized his scene in their compartment earlier made sense- for who he was, anyways. No wonder he didn't like the Potters or Weasleys.

Scorpius approached the stool readily enough, and sat down with a composed look on his face and a slight smirk. _No doubt he wants to be in Slytherin, like his father, and undoubtedly where someone like him would go. _

However, after a few moments of the hat on his head, the Malfoy's smirk faded and was replaced with a worried frown. He gave a few minute head shakes, and it appeared to Rose like he was having a fierce whisper argument with the ragged thing. So far, Malfoy was having the longest sorting yet, soaring close to a full minute and a half.

Scorpius was still shaking his head as the hat raised its voice. "...trust me now, I think you'd do well in_ Gryffindor_!"

For a few seconds, the Great Hall was dead silent. Then a few half-hearted cheers were taken up at the table under the gold and scarlet, and it picked up. Rose looked back at the boy, who was slowly making his way to join his new house mates. He didn't look excited or relieved; if anything, he seemed confused and angry. _If it's any comfort,_ Rose thought, _I don't think anybody else expected this outcome either._ She was still distracted by the matter, even after Lyla Opplence went to Hufflepuff and Gordon Thomas was well received at Ravenclaw.

"Potter, Albus!"

Once more, whispers echoed around the hall at the enrollment of another Potter child. Rose thought the poor kid looked so terrified that he wanted to sink through the floor. When the hat touched his head, Albus blurted out something to it. Within seconds, the hat roared out, "Gryffindor!" _Guess he had no need to worry._ Her cousin quickly joined his new house, much to the praise of his older brother James.

"Weasely, Rose!"

The red-head in question felt her stomach flip. This was it. There was no going back after she was sorted. Slowly, she made her way up the three steps and hopped onto the stool. Moments before she felt the hat touch her head, she felt a sudden jolt of panic. _Everyone thought Malfoy would be Slytherin. Maybe it's not so easily to predict what house someone goes in. What if it was wrong about Malfoy? What if it could be wrong about me?_

A deep, ragged voice that reminded Rose of the torn fabric on her head filled her ears. "Hmmm, what have we here? Another Weasely?"

Rose shut her eyes tight and nodded slightly. _Please be right about me. Please be right about me._

"Ha! So you're worried I'll put you in the wrong house, are you? I have a knack for being right- that's my purpose, you know. You remind me of your cousin who was just up here a few names ago. Hadn't been on his head for more than a second before he blurted out how much he wanted to be a Gryffindor. He had no need to worry, really, he would have gone there anyways. But what about you?"

A few silent seconds passed before the hat spoke again, this time in a voice loud enough for all to hear, "Definitely a Gryffindor!"

After she stepped off the stool to the cheer of her table, Rose only just realized that she had had no idea what house she had even wanted to be in. So preoccupied had she been at the thought of the hat being wrong about her, she didn't even think of what house she might be best suited in. Rose would have been happy enough in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but she also knew she would be most confident in her placement in Gryffindor- it was, after all, where the entire Weasely line had been sorted. It wasn't until she sat down next to Katie McMoore under the Lion banner that she realized some people seemed equally as confused with her placement as they had with the Malfoy boy's.

_Oh. Right_. Rose had almost forgotten, in the haze of her excitement, that he, too, had been sorted into Gryffindor. She blinked at where he sat, staring down at the table and refusing to make eye contact with anyone, his face was blank. It was no secret now that he shared no love for her family, and now she and her cousins were going to have to deal with him in their own house. _Great._

As the sorting ceremony wrapped up, Headmistress McGonagall stepped forward to the eagle podium to make final announcements for the year's start. It was the first time Rose had paid any real attention to the professor; she had been much too preoccupied with her sorting. The proud old woman was certainly well getting on into her years, the age evident on her being. But her eyes were still a bright blue, twinkiling with wit, and she still moved with all the grace of a young, confident witch. "Yes, welcome to all those who are only just now beginning their first year, and welcome back to those who I'm sure enjoyed their summer break," McGonagall declared. "Now, as usual, the Dark Forest is strictly off-limits to all students-"

"Shocker," James muttered.

"-as well as the second-level of dungeons. Any and all students found trespassing in either location will be punished most forcefully. In order to reduce the temptation of nosing..." Rose could have sworn McGonagall glanced at James, "...potions class this year has been temporarily moved to the second floor, northern-most classroom. Now," the wise old witch finished, waving her hand, "Let the feast commence!"

To Rose's surprise, an array of dishes appeared before her on the table, and gasps of surprise from other first years echoed through the Great Hall. Chatter broke out immediately, and everyone helped themselves to the variety of specially-made food. Rose laughed alongside Katie and Albus, trying not to choke on her last bite of buffalo wings when her cousin was challenged to an icecream eating contest. The atmosphere was festive and lively, and she was beginning to believe that her rotten luck on the train this morning had changed. After all, she got into a respectable house and was already fast forming friendships.

Rose was so caught up in the evening's excitement, she almost didn't notice that the Malfoy boy didn't eat.

_Almost._

* * *

**And so ends chapter 1. The length of chapters will vary, but most will probably hover around this size.  
One thing that has always annoyed me as a fic reader is when I get an alert that one of the stories I follow has updated, only to find out the new chapter was filler. So, my promise to you is that in every chapter, there'll be some sort of development- no more filler chapters without any form of excitement. **  
I also feel a few things need clarification; at the end there, there were some people called up between Albus and Rose. The confusion of some students at her own sorting will come up (if not in the second chapter, the third). And, yes, the off-limits of the dungeons does play a part in this story.

**Please read and review- criticism is welcomed as long as it's constructive. The next chapter will posted in a few days, probably Friday, but the more reviews I get, the faster I'll update.  
**


	2. The Owlrey

**A/N**: _I was wondering why my fic had so little views- then I realized it was because when I published chapter 1, the iPad I was using didn't include the characters I selected. Go figure. It's fixed now._

* * *

"This is impossible," Albus muttered to his cousin.

At that moment, Rose couldn't agree more. The idea that they were suppose to be able to transfigure a match into a needle within only two weeks of being at Hogwarts seemed absurd. Clearly, several of the students in her class were of like mind, angrily staring at the thin strip of wood with occasional moans of despair. Rose merely grunted in response, once more trying the spell on the infuriating object. Still nothing.

It was their third Transfiguration class, but the first time they had actually practiced the refined art in-session. Professor Shabbit, a middle-aged wizard of nondescript looks and a scraggly beard, slowly strolled between the aisle of desks as he watched his students. He never seemed to be in a hurry, always speaking with slow deliberation, as if he had thought quite a lot on each word before it left his mouth.

As the Professor came close to her desk, Rose notice him slow even more (if that were _possible)._ Realizing her chance to perhaps finally show some form of skill, she concentrated with all her might on the match and forcibly said the incantation. "_Acusia_!"

Much to the red-head's fury, the object refused to change in any way.

Shabbit moved onwards with a disappointed expression, striding purposefully between the desks in his un-hurried fashion. He didn't stop to inspect the other students so closely, and that was what annoyed Rose. Ever since her first class- not just in Transfiguration, but in every subject- the teachers seemed to pay her particular attention. It was annoying. Despite her argument to James on the train about not being shy, Rose Weasely hated being brought to special attention, and each teacher's not-so-subtle inspection of her talents was getting on her nerves.

Eventually, Shabbit bade them to stop and launched into a drawling lecture about how Transfiguration required deliberateness and relaxed concentration to succeed. Rose blew a stray curl of hair from her face with a huff- every student had already heard the talk twice.

When the class was finally excused, Rose and Albus immediately headed off to lunch. Neither had been very successful in their Transfiguration of matches to needles, and, naturally, they decided the best way to vent was to debate between the more boring professor: Binns or Shabbit?

"I'd still say Shabbit's better," Albus was arguing as they entered the packed Great Hall. "He doesn't drone on in a monotone like that old crotchety excuse for a-"

"Hi Albus, Rose!" Katie McMoore approached, interrupting cheerily. "How did you like Transfiguration? Isn't it amazing?"

Albus scowled in response.

"I'm afraid neither of us were very good," Rose admitted. "Maybe we're just not cut out for it."

"Don't be ridiculous," snorted a short, black-haired boy, who stood to the right of Katie. He had dark blue eyes that betrayed mischief. "It was your first time. Most of our class didn't even come close to succeeding, so I doubt it's just you."

"Shove off, Nick!" Katie playfully elbowed him, pretending not to notice when the boy doubled over winded. She inclined her head at him. "Apparently, _he_ got his pretty close. It was silver and pointy, and really was just missing the thread hole."

"What?!" Albus exclaimed. He looked even more disheartened.

"It wasn't that close," Nick argued, sufficiently recovered enough to speak. "It was too thick, and it barely had a point."

"I can't believe this," the young Potter moaned, dramatically clapping a hand to his face in mock-shame. "I've been shown up by a Ravenclaw!"

Rose scoffed at the comment but couldn't hold back a smile at her cousin and friends. "Have you guys had lunch yet?"

Katie shook her head. "No, I was in your class, remember? Nick only just got out of History."

"How about we take it outside?" Albus suggested, glancing at the sun streaming through the windows of Great Hall. "It seems nice outside and crowded in here."

"Good enough for me!" Nick exclaimed.

The three Gryffindors and the Ravenclaw quickly piled up a plate of goodies before proceeding out onto the well-manicured lawns of Hogwarts grounds. Albus was right- it was sunny and gorgeous outside, and none of the young friends wanted to waste the entire day indoors.

As they sat beneath the cool shade of an ancient oak by the lake shore, Rose munched on a ham sandwich as she surveyed her new companions. Albus, of course, was her cousin, and they had always gotten along well. Katie, with her dark, loose curly hair and charming sense of humor had immediately gotten along splendidly with Rose. And Nick was much wittier than one would expect from the short boy. It had only been two weeks, and already she was forming her own little gang of friends.

Rose had completely forgotten about her earlier annoyance of over-bearing teachers; it was, after all, impossible to be disgruntled in such warm company, especially on a day like this. She couldn't wait to write to her parents about how well the year was going.

* * *

It was the following day, and the once-beautiful weather had turned cloudy and humid. As she had promised herself, Rose had dutifully written a letter of respectable length to her parents and brother at home. Now, with it in hand, she climbed the winding staircase to the top of the owlrey. Not having an owl of her own yet, Rose guessed she would use one of the school's that was set aside for student use.

What she hadn't been expecting was someone else having the exact same idea.

Totally ignorant of the idea of someone else in the drafty tower, Rose hummed to herself as she made her way to one of the designated nests, gently stroking the breast feathers of a young eagle owl. "You're pretty," she murmured to the avian. "You've got big, orange eyes and soft, mottled down. I have a letter I need delivered to Devon, so it's not too far. And mum always gives the post a little treat for reward. If-"

There was a cough behind her. Rose whipped around, unaware until now that someone had also occupied the room.

Scorpius Malfoy looked as if he was torn between bizzare amusement or bewilderment. Rose turned slightly pink as she realized how she much have sounded, speaking to the owl. Probably like some avian psycho. She cleared her throat, not entirely sure what to say. "Er...sorry, I didn't think- I didn't know anyone else was here."

"Clearly."

Rose wasn't sure if the comment was meant to sound rude, but decided not to react if it was. "Yeah, was just...y'know, sending a letter home. Keeping my parents updated and what not."

He just stared at her.

"It's just that I know my brother wants to hear every detail of Hogwarts, since he'll be here next year..." she trailed off. Malfoy looked as unresponsive as ever, so clearly small talk wasn't getting anywhere. In truth, Rose didn't know why she was even trying. This was the same kid who made it so clear to her on the train that he despised her family. "I'll just...be going..." she muttered, allowing the eagle owl to take the letter from her hand and launching it into flight. The Weasely turned to hurry out.

"That was my family owl."

Rose stopped in her tracks at his slow words turning to face him hesitantly. "What?"

"That eagle owl," he said simply with a frown, as though he was greatly displeased. "That was my family owl you just sent off."

_That can't be right! It was in one of the school owl nests._ But sure enough, with a quick glance at the bird's former perch, Rose realized too late that the designated sign was for the nest to the right. No wonder he had been puzzled by her earlier affections for the owl! "Oops?" she offered hesitantly. "Um, sorry..."

Malfoy's frown turned to a scowl. "Forget it," he muttered irritatedly. "I'll just come back another time."

Rose didn't particularly like the blond, but she did feel bad about using someone else's owl without even realizing. Quite embarrassing, not to mention awkward. "Okay, well, sorry."

"Yeah yeah, just don't think you've got the right to use whoever's owl you please."

Abruptly the Weasely girl was reminded why she didn't like Malfoy. He kept bringing up her (and her parents') reputation in the oddest of circumstances. Just a few days ago, she had been in the library, trying to find some guides for charms, but couldn't reach the shelf. Malfoy was taller than her and nearby, and, temporarily forgetting who he was, asked if he could reach it for her. Naturally, he'd sneered then, too. "What, princess can't reach it herself?"

That wasn't the only time, either. Any time Rose made to speak with him, his response was always some nasty comment about being a Weasely. While she supposed she could kind of understand the animosity he may feel towards her, the red-head was getting fed up with his sourness and wasn't sure why he went to such unpleasant lengths with her. She glared at the boy. "And why would I think that?"

Malfoy looked surprised at her response for a second before deepening his scowl. "Because you're a goody two-shoes who probably thinks the world owes her something."

"Why would I think _that_?"

"Because, you know..." Clearly the blond was becoming uncertain in this argument.

"That's precisely it," Rose gritted out between clenched teeth, "I _don't know. _Ever since you barged into my cousins' and mine's compartment on the train, you've been nothing but nasty. All I _do _understand is that you have some sort of a grudge against my parents!" She took a deep breath to suppress her mounting anger. "I just..." she expressed more calmly, "I don't understand why you hate me so much."

Malfoy had the decency to look half-way guilty...for a second. Then it was replaced by anger, roughly pushing past Rose and out onto the staircase. "Just stay out of my way, Weasely."

"Fine!" she shouted after his retreating figure, "But that goes both ways, Malfoy!"

With a huff, Rose followed him more slowly down the rough stairs and back to the castle. What an annoying prat. _I haven't done anything to him to deserve his attitude. _Not for the first time, she wondered why he'd been placed in Gryffindor.

* * *

When the door to the room slammed open, Katie jumped in surprise. She whirled around to see who had burst into the room. "Geez, Rose!" she exclaimed. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! What's gotten you in a temper? I thought you went to the owlrey?"

The girl in question flounced over to her canopied bed and practically threw herself onto the plush sheets. She sighed deeply into the feather pillow before turning her head to speak. "Had a run in with Malfoy."

"Oh. That explains it. I'm going to hazard a guess and say he was a prat?"

"Bingo."

Her friend shrugged. "You shouldn't let him get to you so easily. That's what he wants."

"But that's just it!" Rose exclaimed, sitting up to face Katie. "It's not so much the snide remarks that annoy as much as it is not knowing the reason _why_."

Katie hung a damp towel she had recently used at the showers on the heater that stood in the middle of the room. She wish she knew a drying spell, but after only two weeks at school, they were no where near those kinds of charms. "I can't answer that for you," Katie shrugged. "It could just be he's an annoying prat. It's not just you that he's rude to- he snaps at anyone who comes near him in the common room. Wendy Henrick told me that he nearly bit her head off when she asked him to pass the nightshade powder in potions class. Maybe that's all there is to him...maybe he's just a self-centered toerag."

Rose shook her head slowly, pulling her knees close. "No. I mean, what you said makes sense, but...I don't know. Something about him just doesn't seem to match up to the toad he acts like."

She received a snort in reply. "Maybe. What makes you say that?"

"Well..." the red-head bit her lip, "could be he's just lonely, and that's coming out in snappy behavior. He's always sitting by himself during meals-"

"Probably because he verbally abuses everyone close to him."

"-and doesn't seem to have any friends. At least, not that I've seen. Don't get me wrong," Rose added, "no matter what his reasons may be, his actions and words aren't justifiable. I don't know, I guess it's not that important."

Katie looked at her curiously. "Why does it interest you so much?"

Rose's only reply was a shrug. "Not sure. Probably just the mystery behind it. Anyways, which professor is your favorite?" She purposefully changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on the awkward conversation.

As her friend enthusiastically took the line and began comparing the many different teachers at Hogwarts, Rose did her best to push her thoughts of Malfoy from her mind. She had been honest when she said she wasn't certain why she found the boy's attitude so curious- but she knew it had something to do with pity. _Get over it,_ the Weasely thought. _Why is it my problem if he scares everyone away and has no friends? It's his own fault that he's miserable. _Yet she couldn't push the image of him at the school feast directly after the sorting, when he had stared at his empty plate with a blank face until they had been lead to the common room.

Rose couldn't have helped but notice, when all the students had stood up to leave the Great Hall for bed, that his movements had appeared stiff, as if he had been moving automatically. The Gryffindors had been marched up the Grand Staircase to the portrait of the Fat Lady, and in that time Rose had forgotten the blond boy, too caught up in the excitement with her friends. The common room had been everything she'd expected: warm, cozy, and inviting. To her delight, she had discovered that her and Katie would be sharing a dorm room as was customary for girls of the same house and year. There had only been one other Gryffindor girl that year, Syla Opplence.

Rose frowned at the thought of their third roommate. If she remembered right, Lyla Opplence, who had gone to Hufflepuff, must be her twin. Syla was very quiet and reserved and not over-fond of conversation with her fellow Gryffindors. From what Rose had seen, the girl much preferred books to talking and always seemed to have a nose in one. The Weasely didn't mind her being a bookworm, but sometimes she felt like Syla was purposefully ignoring them. Sometimes it seemed like she didn't even want to try and be friends with her roommates.

The girl in question was currently lying on her own bed, completely oblivious to the current discussion of teachers and totally absorbed in the pages of a book. Rose squinted at the title: _To Kill a Mockingjay. _She made a face. What kind of book was that? Why on earth would someone want to read about slaying a bird?

"Rose, are you even listening?"

The red-head blinked at her friend, whom she only just noticed had trailed off in her comparison of Professors Dolvowitz and Longbottom. "Sorry, what? I zoned out there for a bit."

Katie rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Did you catch anything I said?"

"A bit. Something about the clear difference in age between the two."

"Guess that's more than I expected." Katie followed her roommate's line of sight to the book in Syla's hands. "Hey, Syla, what're you reading?"

"A book," Opplence replied absentmindedly.

Katie rolled her eyes. "Thanks, that clears a lot up. Hey Rose, want to go down for dinner? I'm starving, it's been forever since I last ate- two hours, I think!"

"Sure," she responded cheerily. Now that it had been mentioned, Rose w_as _rather hungry. Both girls hurried to the door, but not before Rose had glanced back at the content figure on the bed. "Syla, you coming?"

"I'll be down in a minute."

Rose shrugged. "Okay, but I wouldn't take too long. James told me he overheard that there'd be boston creme pie tonight!"

Silently, Syla closed the book, laid it on the bed, and bounded out the door past her two roommates without a word. "Oi! Leave some for us!" Katie roared after her.

* * *

Rose and Katie made their way to the Great Hall the next morning and sat down at the Gryffindor table. The red-head looked like she had just rolled out of bed, and McMoore chewed on a haphazardly buttered bagel similarly to how one would imagine a zombie would. Both squinted around the room with sleepy eyes. "How do these people do it every morning?" Katie grunted as she dipped her knife in marmalade.

"At least it's a Friday," her friend pointed out, "so we can sleep it tomorrow."

"Gosh, ain't that a lovely thought? At this rate I'll end up unconscious mid-potion class and I'll drown in a cauldron."

"If you're lucky, it might be a draught of sleep potion."

"Haha, hilarious, you are."

"Morning, sleeping beauties!"

It took the two roommates and their sleep-fogged minds a few seconds to register the fact that someone had plopped down next to Rose. "If I'm a beauty right now, you must be a goddess, Nick," she snapped.

The wide-awake Ravenclaw ignored the cranky reply. "Why thank you, Rose, I have always considered myself a particularly gorgeous specimen, but to hear it from your own lips only confirms my joy of my self-beauty."

Katie blinked at him as if he was a stranger. "Are you even allowed to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Sit at the Gryffindor table? Since it's not your house."

Her question was dismissed with an off-hand wave. "Nobody cares that much at breakfast. It's a time to be social. And anyhow, I'm not the only one. The Opplence twins always sit together, and more often than not, Greg Patil is sitting with his Syltherin pals." He helped himself to a piece of toast on Katie's plate. "Besides, it's not like I'm a pack of Ravenclaws. Just me."

Katie glared at him for a little longer, then shrugged. Rose couldn't tell if the reaction was directed at Nick's point or his thievery of food.

"How do you do it?" the Weasely asked tiredly, swirling her orange juice slowly. "Be all cheery and awake in the morning. I feel like I'm gonna fall asleep in my breakfast."

"Well," Nick began, chewing on a bit of bacon (Rose wished he would swallow before speaking), "What time did your lot go to bed?"

"I don't know, maybe midnight?"

He snorted, "That makes sense. You're still use to going to bed late and waking up at eight. Hogwarts life kinds of rises and sets with the sun. Here's what I do: be in bed by ten. Breakfast is at seven, so you'll want to be up by at least six thirty-"

"Six thirty!" Katie exclaimed, spraying the unfortunate Ravenclaw in bagel crumbs. "That's ridiculous! I can't do six-thirty! Is the sun even up at that time?"

"The sun rises at 5:37 right now," Nick pointed out. "In winter it might not be until 6:45, but even then, you don't need the sun indoors when the hall torches are lit at six."

Rose cocked her head at him curiously. "How do you know that? Did you read about it somewhere?"

"Nah. Once or twice I've gone to bed a bit earlier than I normally do because my brain's too tired from homework, so I'll get up earlier to finish it on a fresh mind. Curfew is from nine to six anyhow. Back to my earlier advice, if you get up at about six-thirty, it'll leave you a good half hour to properly wake up, get dressed, whatever it is you do in the morning, then come down right as breakfast starts. Then instead of trying to cram breakfast in in the last fifteen minutes before classes start at eight, you'll be able to eat slowly and leisurely. You'll even have a good amount of time for last-hour studying if there's going to be a test that day. After an hour at breakfast, you'll be pretty awake for your first class- potions, right?- and less likely to be in a dozy daze."

Both girls blinked at Nick in a mix of puzzlement and admiration. "When did you figure all that out?"

"I kind of just figured it out for myself in the first few days of school," he admitted. "I was always so tired in the morning like you two, and kept missing half of what Professor Longbottom was saying in Herbology class, so I was determined to figure out some sort of a reliable schedule."

Rose nodded. "Guess the hat put you in Ravenclaw for a reason. I'm assuming you've already eaten, then?"

Nick looked curious, ignoring her second question. "Speaking of, why do you think _you_ weren't put in Ravenclaw?"

"I- what?"

"You mean, you don't know?" He looked slightly disturbed by her expression of confusion. "It's just...a lot of people were expecting you to go to Ravenclaw. Many of us were surprised when you went to Gryffindor instead. Although in hindsight I suppose it's really not all that shocking, considering it _was _your parents' house."

The Weasely was utterly confused. "Wait, what do you mean? Why would anybody think that? I mean, don't get me wrong, Ravenclaw's a great house, I'm sure. But I don't get why 'lots of people' would _expect_ me there."

Katie was watching the conversation with equal intrigue, her eyes flicking between her two friends like she was watching a ping-pong match.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure what everyone based the thought off of. I'm muggle-born," Nick explained apologetically, "so the only things I've heard have been since I came here. My family didn't even know the magical world existed until a few months ago, when I got my letter."

"What _have_ you heard?"

"Not much. Just that the general consensus is that many people expected you in Ravenclaw! Something to do with your mother. All I know, really, is that your parents are basically celebrities in the wizarding world, and that has something to do with it." Nick appeared uncomfortable being put on the spot about the topic, and Rose felt guilty for pressuring him.

"No matter, then," she conceded, "it's no big deal. This was just the first I've heard of this, so I was surprised that it's so apparently well known. Thanks."

After a minute or two of silent munching, Katie broke the awkwardness. "Hey," she murmured to Rose, "I've never noticed before, but ever since you talked about Malfoy being lonely last night, I've noticed more and more how he always seems to be alone."

Rose looked down the table where Katie had gestured. Sure enough, the boy in question was sitting on his own at the very end of the table, picking at his food with a fork. His head rested on his cheek, and he looked as tired as Rose felt- only Rose had a suspicion it had nothing to do with sleep on his end. While students usually sat in spaced-out clumps at breakfast, there was a good ten-foot radius radius around him devoid of company.

Nick noticed where the girls were looking, and craned his neck around Rose to see. "Who's that?" he inquired, peering at the solitary blond.

"Scorpius Malfoy," Katie explained absently.

"Oh. He was that guy everyone thought would be in Slytherin, right?"

"Yeah, including him, I think."

Rose frowned. "Nobody seems to get why he ended up in our house. I certainly don't."

"I know his placement made a bigger uproar than yours did," Nick added. "Does he not have any friends?"

Before either Katie or Rose could respond, the now-familiar screech of several owls at once filled the air. The post arrived, soaring in from the rafter windows that had been opened for that exact purpose. To Rose's delight, she recognized her family Great Gray a moment before it landed smoothly on the table in front of her, a letter clasped firmly in his beak. "Thanks, Faron!" she exclaimed, accepting the offered mail and quick ripping open the envelope. It was a letter from her mum- she recognized the handwriting as Hermione's elegant caligraphy rather than Ron's untidy scrawl.

Nick had also received a letter that he proudly proclaimed was from one of his younger brothers (who he later affirmed was probably non-magical). Katie had gotten no mail, but seemed content, since she had received a welcome package from her own parents the other day.

Further down the table, Rose couldn't help but notice the pretty eagle owl she had used yesterday, now sitting in front of its young master. Apparently, after sending Rose's letter (why it had, she had no idea), it must have flown back to Hogwarts. She wondered if Malfoy had sent it out again with his own letter.

The boy in question hesitantly took the post from his owl and carefully opened it in a more dignified manner than Rose had. She could have sworn she saw his hands shaking as he unfolded the letter. Nick and Katie, who had noticed her line of sight and had also turned to watch, must have noticed it as well. "Must be expecting bad news," the Ravenclaw commented.

The others turned back to their breakfast and own mail, respectively, but Rose couldn't help but continue to watch. She knew it was a bit rude to stare, but she couldn't help but wonder what could make such a confident and secure boy turn so nervous. The longer Malfoy read the letter, the paler his face became. Abruptly, he stood up to leave, pocketing the letter roughly into his robes and swiftly striding from the great hall.

In the moments before he finished the letter, Rose could have sworn she saw his face twist into one singular emotion: dread.

* * *

**End chapter 2!  
I'm sure it doesn't take much to guess who Scorpius's letter was from and what it probably said.  
Also, I know the owlrey scene seemed a little chopped up in the writing, but I couldn't figure out what in particular was wrong, so after half a dozen revisions I just let it be.  
Also, we had some introduction of new characters! Just in case it wasn't clear, Nick is a Ravenclaw of the same year as Rose and Katie.  
**

**Please read and review! I update and write much faster with the encouragement of knowing that people are actually enjoying my writing and I'm not just publishing to empty air and disappointed audiences. **


	3. Forgetfulness Potions

**A/N:** In case it wasn't too clear, this fic isn't going to be a small 10-chapter. It'll probably end up being around 25 or maybe even 30 (although don't hold me to this and it can be hard to accurately predict)

* * *

With the departure of Scorpius Malfoy from the Great Hall, Rose turned back to her own letter. Pushing away the mental image of pure dread on the face of the blond, she instead hastily ripped open her own letter. As she had predicted, it was a letter from her mum, each word carefully written on the parchment in the recognizable elegant calligraphy in blue ink.

_My Dear Rose,_

_What you have described to me of your year so far at Hogwarts sounds phenomenal! Your father and I are so pleased that you have already made some close friends. Who knows? Maybe a mountain troll will escape the dungeons and make you even closer still!  
Hugo had become sulky since you left. He says he is fine and completely _not _jealous about you being at wizarding school, although he has recently been suspiciously researching on potion recipes for quick aging. Even though it might not seem like it to either you or him at the moment, there'll come a time where you may wish you could age backwards. Despite the doubtfulness of Hugo even finding magical ingredients, I've tasked your father with keeping and eye on him; the last thing your brother needs is to be shipped off to St. Mungo's due to ingesting a toxic, failed potion.  
I'm afraid there's not much else happening around at home. Reading your past letters had awakened a nostalgia in me for the carefree days of being only a student at Hogwarts, and I find myself wishing I could be your age once more and do it all a second time over.  
By the way, to whom did that beautiful eagle owl you sent belong to? Hogwarts owls are marked by a little ring around the left leg, and I didn't see one on him! He flew off as soon as I received the letter, so I'll have to use Faron. Still, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you!  
_

_Watch out for trolls!  
Mother_

Nick was chuckling at his own letter. Having been sent by his younger brother, a muggle, the words were written by a pencil, not a quill, on paper instead of parchment.

"What's so funny?" Katie inquired curiously, looking up at her friend.

"When we were shopping in Diagon Alley for school supplies," the Ravenclaw explained, "one of my brother convinced our mother to let him buy some merchandise at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

Rose clapped a hand to her mouth. "No!"

"Yeah," Nick ascertained, eyes rapidly scanning the letter, "He's just telling me about all the hell he's unleashed at home- replacing the table salt with firecracker powder, placing a big bowl of ton-taffees on the coffee table and watching everyone help themselves...the best part is that when Dad finally explodes and comes after him, he just throws instant-darkness powder and runs out the door."

The three couldn't help but laugh at the turmoil that was surely being released at Nick's house. "What happens when he gets back?" Katie asked through giggles.

"Oh, he gets grounded. But apparently, he just slips some flip-truth ointment on Dad's toothbrush so he'll forget about any punishments incurred over the last couple of hours! I swear that kid is a genius."

"Hey, we better get going to potions in a minute," Katie warned, suppressing her laughter.

"Yeah, okay," Rose replied, absently gathering her books she had brought down for breakfast. "Nick, how many brothers did you say you had again?"

"Five total," he prompted, "all younger than me. So it's a guessing game if any of them have magical abilities like me."

Katie stood up, still looking a bit groggy with sleep but largely improved than when she first came in. "I've got three older brothers and an older sister, so we're kinda on opposite ends of the scale. C'mon, Rose, I don't want to be late. Enjoy Herbology, Nick!"

* * *

The two friends dashed into the classroom just as Professor Horton was closing the door. "Ah, Miss McMoore, Miss Weasely. Please take a seat. I was just telling the class what we will be brewing today."

Hurriedly, they took a seat at the only remaining pair of desks towards the front, noticing the pewter cauldron between the two. As they settled, the Professor continued: "Now, where was I? Oh yes. Today you will be trying your hand at a relatively simple potion, but a bit hazardous, nonetheless. Forgetfulness potions work best when the brewer is intending for the victim only to forget what has happened in the last two hours. More skilled alchemists learn, over time, how to strengthen the potency for removed memory for a more extended period of time, but for now we'll simply start with the basics. Before we begin, can anyone tell me why someone may choose to use a forgetful potion rather than a memory charm?"

Horton's eyes scanned the classroom, and Rose could have sworn he lingered on her. "Nobody? Come now, take a guess."

A black-haired girl in the front right corner of the room tentatively raised her hand, the green Slytherin emblem evident on her robes. "Could it be because memory charms are illegal without proper ministry permission, sir?"

"That is partially true," he agreed. "However, forgetfulness potions are equally illegal, so don't go trying it out. You are only learning it because as one of the easier potions to understand, it's not as hard for first-years such as yourself to grasp the idea of brewing. Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Sir, even though memory charms can seem more appealing, in truth, forgetfulness potions are better suited for more articulated plans." Half the class twisted in their seats to view the speaker. In the rear left corner of the room sat Scorpius, sitting next to a disgruntled Slytherin girl. The boy appeared nervous at the attention, but continued to speak, keeping his silver eyes on the Professor. "Forgetfulness potions are much easier to correctly learn and are much more reliable. Memory charms, on the other hand, are extremely difficult to get right without lots of practice, and as the only way to practice must include some test subject, it takes a dangerous amount of time for someone to illegally become skilled. On the flip side, anyone even semi-practiced in the art of potions can brew a forgetfulness draught with still a decent chance of success in having the victim forget particular events. Not to mention the fact that slipping someone a potion is much easier than performing a charm on them unawares."

Professor Horton looked surprised at the sudden flow of information from his student. "Er, quite right. Yes." He cleared his throat noisily, then clapped his hands together and forced a broad smile. "Now, everyone, the instructions for this brew can be found on page 34 of your text books, and all the needed ingredients can be found on the shelf, properly labeled..."

Katie designated herself for the job of heating up the cauldron to the approximate temperature, so that left Rose to retrieve the necessary ingredients. Half the class had the same idea, creating a crowd at the back of the classroom. Trying to read the faded labels on the numerous different jars in the early morning light, she delicately pushed her way to the front to begin scooping out a tablespoon of spider eyes.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Rose couldn't help but recognize the pale blond hair of Scorpius as he tried to round up his own ingredients. As he reached for a jar of powdered skullcap, a boy with a mop of brown hair snapped at him and snatched the ingredient first. Malfoy, now looking uneasy, dropped to the back of the crowd to wait until it thinned out.

Rose hurried back to her own desk with an armful of ingredients. Katie had already heated the cauldron and was setting up the mortar and pestle needed for grinding the worms. Eagerly the two set to the task, mashing the spider eyes to a fine paste, to which they sprinkled exactly half a teaspoon of the ground worm.

Half-way through the brewing, the red-head heard the faint sounds of a whispered-argument, and turned behind her to see Albus fiercely muttering with his Slytherin partner. To Rose's amusement, she noticed that their potion, which was suppose to be clear at this point, was a dark gray sludge giving off purple steam. Her cousin seemed to be scolding his partner, who, to Albus's annoyance, was ignoring him.

Just over their shoulders she could see Malfoy in the back corner. It may have been her imagination, but the blond appeared to be doing most of the work, with his partner watching on with a frown. Every now and then she made to speak, but was quickly cut off by an irritated comment from him. Rose was too far away to hear what he said over the bubbling of twelve cauldrons, but judging by the scowl of his partner, it couldn't have been very pleasing.

Katie's voice snapped her back to the attention of her own project. "I need you to stir this: go twice clockwise, then thrice counter clockwise, three times each in that order. On your second stir I'm suppose to add the ground skullcap."

By the sixth stir, the liquid changed from clear to a pale blue. "There!" Rose exclaimed triumphantly, "It's suppose to be blue, isn't it?"

"Yes and no," replied her friend, frowning at the book. "It's suppose to be a dark blue, not this light or pale, I think, and smell like lilacs. Still, not much we can do now unless we start over, and frankly I don't think we have time for that."

Rose squinted at the potion, which smelled more like lavender than lilacs. "Can't we, I don't know...add something? Stir it more?"

"That'll probably make it worse. I'd rather get an acceptable grade on it than fiddle with it more and possibly blow up the classroom."

A few minutes later, Horton was striding between the isles, peering into each pair's cauldron and giving advice to the students based on their final product. Most potions he rated as merely acceptable. It seemed to Rose that the old Professor could tell exactly what went wrong with a brew just by looking at its consistency and color- then again, he had been teaching at Hogwarts for nearly a decade, and who knew how long he had been a potioneer before that.

After wrinkling his nose at the pungent sulfur fumes coming from the dark yellow blob at the bottom of Albus and his partner's caldron, he moved onwards to Katie and Rose's. "Ah, nicely done, girls," he congratulated. "You were pretty close. I believe you messed up in the motions of stirring by turning it counter-clockwise first instead of clockwise."

Rose shot her friend a guilty look as Horton moved on. "Oops," she whispered, "My fault, I think. I was in charge of the stirring, and come to think of it, I'm pretty sure you _did _say clockwise first-"

"Ah, what have we here? A perfect brew?"

Heads turned once more to the rear corner of the classroom. The Professor stood over Malfoy's cauldron, taking a deep whiff. "Smells like liliacs," he commented aloud. Even from her seat, Rose could see the color of the potion: a deep, midnight blue. Scorpius ducked his head slightly as if he were not accustomed to such attention. His partner, however, had her chin raised high and a smirk upon her lips.

Horton glanced between the two. "Which of you had the idea to add the extra two silkworms?" he asked curiously. "It wasn't on the instructions. If you had not added it, it would still have been a dark blue, but not this dark. I thought it a trick known only to skilled potioneers?"

Scorpius looked like he was about to speak, but the Slytherin girl puffed out her chest, turning to look the Professor straight in the eye with a proud glint. "Oh, that was me, sir. I did most of the work with the ingredients, while _he_ just managed the cauldron."

"That's not true!" her partner hissed, whipping his head around to glare at her. "You barely did anything, only offering useless tips that would mess up the process. If _I_ had done anything _you_ suggested, it would have been a disaster!"

The girl jutted out her chin. "Excuse me? My father is Marcus Flint, one of the most accomplished potioneers in England! I'm pretty sure I'd know what I'm talking about. Isn't it suspicious, Professor," she tittered, "that while I'm the daughter of a successful potion master, _he _somehow comes up with the idea of adding extra ingredients and taking the credit for it?"

Rose frowned at the Slytherin's words. From what she's heard of Malfoys in the past, she didn't think it'd be beyond him to take credit he didn't earn. On the other hand, the girl _was _a Slytherin, and she _had_ seen Malfoy doing most of the work when she had glanced back during the session. Rose didn't want to get mixed up in the argument, but she couldn't just keep silent from what she had observed. "Professor," she said hesitantly, calling on the attention of the class, "I know it's not really my place...but earlier, I was looking around the classroom to see how the others were progressing and couldn't help but notice that it _did _seem like Malfoy was doing most of the work."

"Hmmm, is that so?" Horton frowned, looking torn. "Well, here's my decision. I can't be sure who really should take the credit, since both offered cases are plausible. However, whichever of you two it was, the potion is outstanding, so you will both receive an O on it. In the future, I think it may be best not to pair you two together to avoid such possible deception in the future. Class, you are dismissed."

Katie and Rose quickly gathered their things, the latter trying to ignore how a certain blond boy was staring at her in disbelief from across the room. Before the two could leave, however, Horton pulled the Weasely aside for a brief moment. "Rose, while I appreciated your input on the earlier matter of who earned the credit, I'd advice you to keep your eyes on your own cauldron during class. I trust your motives were innocent, but still, best to avoid temptation."

With an earnest promise to keep to herself in class in the future, Rose slipped out the door and out into the hallway with her friend. Potions class usually lasted about an hour and a half, so they had approximately fifteen minutes to head for Herbology at the greenhouses. Albus ran up to catch up with them, boiling in anger.

"I can't _believe_ we have potions with Slytherin!" he fumed. "It couldn't have been Transfiguration or charms. Nope, it had to be the one class where I had to actually rely on someone else's skill. Did you see that idiot I got paired with, Doran Clofthaggen? I swear, he's got a brick for a brain. I told him _three times_ to _gently_ mash the spider eyes, not pulverize them! Later on he didn't cut the lacewings thin enough, said it'd work better in chunks. That is the last time I get paired with the likes of him!"

"Cheer up, at least you didn't melt the bottom of your caldron," Katie pointed out. "Drew Fortaign did, and got a T for it."

As they passed out the Great Doors and continued on the outside path way to the green houses, they passed Nick and his fellow Ravenclaws. Rose wrinkled her nose; his robes had been splattered with vibrant green glop. "What happened to you?"

He shook his head miserably. "You'll be feeding klingorger plants today. Whatever you do, don't make the chunks too big, or you'll end up like me."

Nick left for his dorm and a change of robes, and the three friends carried on. "Klingorger..." Albus repeated absently. "Isn't that the one that only eats fresh bone-in goat, then later spits back up the liquified bone marrow at predators?"

"Probably," Rose replied weakly, not excited at the prospect of feeding giant carnivorous plants. _Sometimes I seriously wonder about the sanity of this school and what they choose to teach kids._

* * *

The weak light of late October filtered through the clear windows of the Great Hall one late autumn evening, the thousands of candles floating above the tables brightening the dim room. Below, students were casually chatting among themselves as they enjoyed their dinner, sharing tales of the day and swapping gossip. On the far end of the Gryffindor table, under the scarlet and gold banner, four friends were happily talking away the time.

"I'm not sure I understand," Albus was sighing, his chin propped on one arm. It had been a long week, with two quizzes and more challenging projects. "How does James being at Hogsmeade make him guilty?"

"It's not that he's at Hogsmeade," his red-headed cousin countered, "it's that he's there so late. He should have been back by now with the others. Don't you find that even a little bit suspicious?"

Albus shrugged carelessly. "He's James. I'm sure he's fine."

"I don't think that's what Rose is worried about," Katie cut in. "Your brother can handle himself. The problem is that it's past curfew for those who went to Hogsmeade. Someone's bound to notice sooner or later that he went and hasn't returned even after the grounds closed."

"Wait, so you're saying he can't get back in? He might be stuck in town?"

"Well yeah. I'm pretty sure that's what 'curfew' means, drinklesnot."

Rose raised an eyebrow at Katie's newest insult. The girl seemed to have no shortage of unpleasant names made up on the spot. So far, her favorites had been corkplumgrunt, potato peel, krincho, and dodobrain, although the most memorable remained to be the time Katie said Nick's singing voice was "akin to a half-dead toad trapped under a hot rock". Rose didn't understand what half of the insults meant, but they were certainly fun to hear.

"He's probably fine," Rose tried to assure the now-worried Albus, "probably roaming the grounds or up in his dorm." She tried to hide the doubt in her words; the gates had closed an hour ago, and James was rarely late to a chance to stuff his face.

At that moment, the man himself walked into the Great Hall, a nonchalant look on his face. Nobody seemed to pay him much heed.

"Oi!" Albus called as his brother walked past, "Where've you been? The Hogsmeade visit was over an hour ago!"

James gave an off-hand wave to his younger brother. "Hey Al," he muttered distractedly, heading to sit with his own friends further down the table. Upon noticing his appearance, Joesph Finnigan (whom was often James's partner-in-crime) immediately ducked his head low. The two proceeded to have an urgent whisper conversation.

"Git," Albus muttered under his breath. "Here I was, worried out of my mind for hours, and all he says is 'hey'."

Katie snorted into her lemonade, "Worried for hours? Steady on there, you didn't even notice him missing until five minutes ago!"

As they fell into an intense argument over the level of concern shown by the younger Potter, Nick tapped Rose on the shoulder from where he sat on her left. "Look," he murmured, nodding his head towards the hall entrance.

Obediently, Rose raised her eyes to the heavy oak doors that stood ajar, catching a flash of pale blond hair. As she watched, she saw Scorpius Malfoy hesitate at the entrance, then stride pass the Gryffindor table to the other end of the hall. Looking nervous and hopeful, he approached the table under the silver and green where a crowd of first-year Slytherins sat chatting among themselves over dinner. Upon noticing his presence, one of the students called the others' attention to him, muttering something among themselves.

Looking eager, Malfoy made as if to sit down and join them at the table, but stopped short as the one of the Slytherins began jeering at him. Soon the others joined in, causing heads to turn, and the blond's face seemed to drain of color. Turning on heel, Scorpius marched back to the Gryffindor table, head held high; but his hands betrayed his anger and embarrassment, clenched tight in fists.

"What was that about?" Rose frowned, feeling bewildered by the scene she had witnessed.

Nick blinked at her as if she had missed something obvious. "Think about it. He comes from a pure-blood, all-Slytherin family, and as you pointed out awhile back, he probably expected to be sorted into it too. Instead, he got plopped into pretty much the exact opposite house. I doubt the Malfoys have many family friends in Gryffindor, so he can't rely on any form of connections that way to make acquaintances. Naturally, he tries to fit in where he thinks he would best; in his case, it's among Slytherin friends."

The Weasely frowned. "So?"

"So?" the Ravenclaw rolled his eyes. "Don't you get it? Any of the kids he might have known from childhood are in Slytherin. But that entire house is rejecting him; they think he must be some sort of traitor to his family's name. That little scene that just happened wasn't the first time, either- he's always trying to hang out with them, only to be turned down. That's why he doesn't have any friends. He's an outsider in Gryffindor, the house he was put in, but has been denounced among where he thinks he belongs."

"Oh." In truth, Rose hadn't thought much about the Malfoy boy. From the few rude encounters she had, she had him pegged as nothing more than a snide jerk. She'd never stop to think much on his predicament.

Nick had turned away from her, frowning down the table to where Scorpius currently sat with a bowed head, fiddling with his butter knife. "I'm gonna go talk to him," he blurted out suddenly. Without saying another word, he slid down the bench to sit across from the lonely boy. At first, the blond appeared to snap at Nick's cheery greeting, but as Rose watched, his pale face gradually softened from a scowl to a more neutral expression.

Katie and Albus, who seemed to finally come to an agreement in their debate of fraternal love, turned back to Rose. "Where'd Nick go?"

Before the red-head could respond, a familiar figure with tousled black hair sidled up to Albus. "Hey little brother."

"James! Where were you earlier? Why weren't you back before curfew?"

The oldest Potter waived the questions with careless answers. "Was doing stuff. Had to stay a bit later than usual to do some research and buy a few things."

Katie looked doubtful, shooting James a pointed look. "What sort of stuff?"

"None of your business."

"Wait a minute," Rose cut in, sniffing. After growing up with plenty of visits to her Uncle's shop, she knew that scent anywhere. "Is that...Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder I smell? James, what are you planning?"

"Fine, fine," he admitted (although his tone suggested to Rose that he was planning to tell them all along). "Joe and I have been planning something for Halloween night. We've been planning it for months now, although the idea has been in our minds since the start of the school year."

"Like, 'get-me-suspended' kind of plan, or 'get-six-howlers-in-one-day-each-from-one-of-my-Weasely-relations'?"

"Not fair, Al," James scowled at his younger brother, who was unsuccessfully trying to portray an innocent look. "That only happened once. It's not my fault if Samuel Lorcanster tried to steal my Stormchaser 500 and I reacted justly."

"James, you set his bed on fire. With him in it."

"Details, details- he had it coming!" The older Gryffindor shook his head, a smile twitching his lips. He looked around the table cautiously, and seeing nobody in immediate proximity, leaned in closer to the three. "Listen. On Halloween night, while everyone up here is enjoying the sugarfest of a feast, we're going down to the sealed second-floor of the dungeon; we're gonna find out what the hell's down there."

* * *

**And that's a wrap for chapter 3!  
Most authors think that the only appropriate time for time jumps is between chapters, but I personally felt it was time to skip a bit and fast-forward a few months. Just so everyone knows, this fic will not follow each of Scorose's years of school in a slow manner. There'll probably be about three more chapters for year one, then we'll do a major time skip to third year, and then later sixth year. I just feel it important to show the initial building of friendship between the two, unlike in many fics where two chapters it it's [boom huge time skip to 7th year and look, they're suddenly best friends with little backstory on how they got there]!**

**The next chapter will be the first (and not the last) from Scorpius's perspective! It'll recap on what's been happening to him since the sorting.  
Also, I won't always be updating this quickly (practically daily). I'm currently having a huge influx of writing inspiration, so updating may be sporadic, anywhere from five to twice a week. **

**Hope you enjoyed this update- please leave a review! They always motivate me to write. **


	4. Wrong House (Or is it?)

**Thanks so much for all the reviews you guys have left me so far! They're all really sweet and inspiring. I wasn't originally going to get this chapter done tonight, but the most recent one pushed me over the edge for motivation.  
I also apologize for not updating sooner, but like I warned earlier, my updating may be a bit sparradic. Had a busy Wednesday.**

* * *

Since the first moment that cursed hat had sat upon his blond head, Scorpius Malfoy knew he was looking at a dark and unpleasant future ahead for him at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The reality of his situation was so far off from what he had anticipated, so unbelievably stunning, that more than once he had to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't a nightmare.

As the son of a pureblood and wealthy family, Scorpius already had his life thoroughly planned out from start to finish, and his time for education was predicted to be one of pleasantry. Similarly to how his father had it at Hogwarts, Scorpius would be arriving already with an entourage of acquaintances- who, no doubt, would quickly become friends; after all, it made sense he would most closely bond with those whom shared similar upbringings (something quietly encouraged by the parents). The advantage of pre-friendship in the making before he even arrived at school would help to secure his position in Slytherin house.

So, on the first of September, when the Hogwarts Express puffed eagerly in the station to depart with its compartments filled with eager students, Scorpius said a final goodbye to his parents, jumped aboard, and immediately began seeking out the other first-years that would no doubt be in the same house. It had been engrained in Scorpius's mind since early childhood that his placement at Hogwarts meant a great deal and could spell out his future in the magical world. His mother, Astoria (nee Greengrass) had always assured her son that per-arranging his friendships would work out best in the long run.

When the blond-haired boy did finally find the coupe containing barely-recognizable faces (naturally, his family having known most of theirs, they would have met at least one), he entered with a full confidence that he did indeed belong there. He remembered the dark-skinned boy in the corner was Geoffery Tarrabell, and the pale black-haired girl was Silicia Flint. The others remained vaguely familiar, although he had no recollection of the Asian-English kid on the far side of the compartment. The kids had accepted Scorpius without a word, making idle chit-chat among themselves on the long, boring ride to school. It was apparent that none of them were overly-eager to interact with each other, but all felt a sense of duty to do so. After all, they were all most definitely Slytherins, weren't they?

Scorpius began to grow more bored with his 'friends' by the minute. None of them struck him as particularly smart or interesting, having already pegged about half of them as rather dim-witted. If it had been his choice, he doubted he would have hung out around them, and (not for the first or last time) he quietly resented the sense of purpose his parents had thrust upon him. Scorpius still didn't understand, even after having it explained to him many times, exactly why it was so important that he arrive at Hogwarts with so many 'companions'. He didn't get how it would influence his life after school, but had never really challenged his parents on it. And yet, still, he continued to flare with indignation that he wasn't allowed to choose his own friends.

Control had never been much in Scorpius's hands. Draco and Astoria Malfoy told him that something would be this way, or that that would be another way- he would accept it as fact and continue on in life. Their favorite thing to do with their only son was to predict "with great accuracy" what would befall him on his way: Scorpius would be a Slytherin, just like them (and to be fair, he did show all the key characteristics of his parents' house), he would be a natural at potions, he would find a decent pure-blood witch, and of course, he would bring great honor to the name Malfoy.

It wasn't that his parents didn't love him- Scorpius knew that much. They wanted only the best for him; which, in their eyes, the best was Slytherin, alchemy, a pureblood wife, and honor. They did not stop to think about what it might be that their _son_ wanted, and never had cause to worry due to his outward acceptance. But, gradually, over the years, the youngest Malfoy began growing bitter that he was expected to only follow the way paved in front of him. Deep inside the boy he craved honor, yes, but even to such a young child, he never could quite see what was so great about traveling a path already cut. He wanted to make his own way in life without the constant pressure of his parents to do it a certain way. Yet he would often push this away, as he strove for one other thing: the desire to make his parents proud.

Perhaps that is one of the things that the Sorting Hat saw inside Scorpius Malfoy, as he sat upon the stool in front of the crowded Great Hall later that evening.

The blond had reluctantly stayed with the group he had first met on the train, despite his increasing opinion that they were bordering on idiocy. None of them seemed able to hold an intelligent conversation. Of course, they had all tried; after all, they had had the same ideas drilled into their heads when they were young as Malfoy had, and they seemed to silently agree on a pact of "_friendship_" for their own beneficial gain. Yet Scorpius doubted he would be able to stick in their company for much longer. They were unbearable, and their choice topic of their pureblood was making him uncomfortable. While following the Second Wizarding War the Malfoy family had toned down their prejudice to blood purity, becoming (mostly) sincere in their regret; other families had not made such a change. Many simply buried their old morals and outdated beliefs deep, spoken only in the household and with trusted friends, to avoid confrontation with the new laws. The prejudice still lived on in their hearts, and therefore, in their children.

When Scorpius was called to sit upon the stool for his sorting, he felt neither nervous nor particularly excited, a knowing smirk of confidence plastered on his face for the benefit of his new 'friends' watching from the Slytherin table. He, similarly to Rose Weasely, just wanted to get it over with, but for entirely different reason. Everyone knew he would be in his parents' house.

"What have we here?" a rough voice muttered in his ears and the hat touched his pale head. "Interesting, very interesting...not what one would immediately assume..."

Scorpius was feeling his confidence slowly drain away, as if he were a water balloon someone had pricked with a needle. His father had told him numerous times of his own sorting ceremony, and how the hat had known exactly where to put him the moment it had touched his head; his son, then, was certain it would be the same for him. The blond felt a slight flash of resentment, remembering how it had been decided by everyone since he was little that he would be in the house of green and silver.

A warm chuckle filled his head. "Quite different from your father, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you mean," he replied in a flat whisper. "Just put me in Slytherin so I can get this done and over."

"Slytherin?" the voice replied, sounding faintly surprised, "Is that really where you wish to go?"

Scorpius could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. "Yes."

"Your lips affirm, but your heart and mind do not concur," it rasped back. "Do you know why I have been chosen for this duty? Arguably one of the most important charges of this school, sorting students into their correct houses? I was created by the makers of Hogwarts themselves. I was made to read the truths inscribed on the beating hearts and pulsing minds of each of the millions of eleven year-olds that have worn me. And, in your own self, I see you are ready to deny so that you may fit where you have told you belong."

Despite his growing sense of dread at the hat's words, Scorpius could not help but once again feel bitter that, as it had said, he was expected to do what was expected of him. He was suppose to just lie down and simply accept that his parents would always control his life, past, present, and future. The young Malfoy was tired of being told who he was. But at the same time, he had always believed them. "I want to be in Slytherin," he argued. Even if he wasn't necessarily happy with his family's plans for his life, he still thought that it would be the house for him. It was the best house, where only the smartest and ambitious of students went. It was his heritage. It was where his people were. It was where he belonged.

"I tell you now," the hat continued, "you are not who everyone believes you to be, and I have a feeling you don't quite know yourself as well as you think. You are ambitious, yes, and cunning. But your greatest attributes are not those of Slytherin house: you are daring with nerve. You wish to cut your own path in life, not take the easy way, something that takes great courage if you wish to distance yourself from your family."

"But I'm not brave! I'm not daring!"

"Deny it all you wish with your lips, Malfoy, we both know how you really feel. Trust me now, you'll do great in _Gryffindor_!"

Scorpius didn't remember what happened after that very clearly. He knew he must have stumbled down from the steps in blind shock, not taking notice of the astonished crowd, as he made his way to the table under the scarlet and gold banner. He didn't hear the half-hearted clapping, or see the appalled faces of the Slytherin table. He didn't notice the two foot radius suddenly between him and his neighbors. He didn't pay attention to the sudden appearance of the feast at the end of the ceremony, or that he was largely ignored at the festivities.

He didn't notice any of it, because after eleven years of being told how great of a Slytherin he'd make, he now sat in the rivaling house.

* * *

"Hi."

Scorpius snapped out of his recollection of how he got into such a mess by the friendly greeting. Frowning, he looked up from his empty silver plate to see an amicable face smiling back. He recognized the short, black-haired boy as one of the ones usually hanging around Weasely and Potter.

"What do you want?" he snapped at the character. He was painfully aware of how public the Slytherin's rejection of him was and still wasn't quite over it. It had been Scorpius's hope that, despite his strange placement in house, he could continue being 'friends' with the other kids he had met on the train. Surely they saw as clearly as he did that the Sorting Hat was utterly crazy to put him in Gryffindor? He thought, maybe, that if he made an effort to still hang around them, they would see that he disliked his placement as much as they did. Yet ever since his sorting, the first-year Slytherins had been nothing but intolerable to him (purposely, this time). At first they had appeared to play along, pretending that Scorpius was indeed part of their little pact. But as the weeks went on, he began noticing little things: they wouldn't let him sit at the Slytherin table (in case Gryffindor got the wrong idea, they assured Scorpius at the time), they would purposely speed up when walking in a group so he couldn't catch up (they didn't want to be late for class, they had said, it was nothing personal), and of course, he always ended up doing all the work in team projects (only because he was so great at everything, and they didn't want to be a burden). It had taken a few months, but gradually Scorpius was realizing that he was being played. The final straw had been when Silicia Flint tried to sabotage his potions work and then take credit for the success (everyone knew her father, Marcus Flint, was a charlatan). Despite this, he kept desperately hoping that they'd come to accept him despite his house. It had only been when they had all publicly labeled him as a "traitor" a few minutes ago that he gave up hope.

The boy across from him shrugged. "I just realized I'd never properly met you. Name's Nick, by the way. Nick Renskallius."

Scorpius eyed the offered hand warily. He had the sneaking suspicion that Nick's sudden friendly advances had something to do with what had just happened, and he didn't want anybody's pity. Yet, he also realized, there wasn't much reason not to accept what was being offered; he had no remaining chance with Slytherin, and surely his parents wouldn't think too badly at befriending a Ravenclaw? "Scorpius Malfoy," he answered decisively, shaking his hand.

"Nicely met. You're that guy with the reputation for a potion master, aren't you? I've heard a lot of great things about your ability."

It was not in Scorpius's nature to blush, but he came damn near. "Er, I wouldn't exactly call me a master. My dad's dabbled in alchemy and potions for years, so I kind of picked up some tricks from him when I use to watch him in his office."

"Hmm, can't say I can relate. My dad's just a software developer- successful, but not quite as flashy as a magical alchemist. Guess that comes with being muggleborn."

Alarm bells rang in the Malfoy's head at the word _muggleborn_. His parents might have toned down their prejudice from their younger years, and yes, became more tolerable, but there still lingered a small sense of superiority at the idea of having only magical blood. Scorpius was brought up around fellow pure-bloods or half-bloods, and he couldn't deny that that sense of higher being had been passed on. Then his thoughts turned rebellious. _I was always instructed to only interact with Slytherins and family friends, and that didn't exactly turn out swimmingly. _He silenced the ringing bells in his mind; Nick may have been muggleborn, but he certainly seemed like a better personality than Scorpius's former attempts at friendship. Besides, Astoria and Draco Malfoy didn't need to know about the circumstances of Nick's birth.

As Scorpius had been wrestling with his childhood morals, the Ravenclaw had rambled on. "I've got five younger brothers, you know. No clue if they'll have magical abilities like me or not, but I have a inkling that Jared might. He gets into all sorts of trouble, y'know, and once I could have sworn he was behind Mom's meatloaf burning in the oven- not that any of us minded, her meatloaf tastes like muck from the bottom of the Black Sea..."

Nick continued to digress, doing most of the talking. Scorpius, who was more of a listener anyways, paid rapt attention to the strange stories his new-found acquaintance told about growing up in the muggle world. The blond would ask clarifying questions every now and then, just to make sure Nick knew that he was listening, while he helped himself to a peanut-butter and banana sandwich. He didn't notice then, but for the first time since his sorting, Scorpius's appetite had returned.

* * *

Even though it was well-since dark outside, it was only eight o'clock in the evening. As most students were still down in the Great Hall for dinner, Scorpius had the entire Gryffindor common room to himself, and took full advantage of it. Despite his misgivings, he had to admit that the chamber was indeed very cozy, and there was no better place to do Charms homework than in one of the desks close to the fire. He had never seen the Slytherin common room, but he couldn't understand how it could be any more welcoming. Malfoy was still adamant that he had been put in the wrong house, but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to enjoy some peace and quiet that it offered.

He was almost finished writing a half-scroll length essay on why correct wand posture was important when there was the distinctive _creak _of the Fat Lady portrait swinging open. It was followed by a loud babbling of arguing voices entering the common room.

"James, of all the stupid, idiotic things you've ever done, this is it!"

"How do you even know? It's not like I've done it yet. And sorry, I can't bring any particular failures to mind- all my plans are brilliant!"

Albus and James Potter stumbled into the room, looking as if they were in an intense argument. Behind them, two first-year girls trailed, looking vaguely irritated, with Joseph Finnigan grinning in amusement from the archway. Nobody seemed to pay much attention to Scorpius at his solitary corner desk.

"Come on, James, just think this through!" The blond recognized the curly red-head instantly as the Weasely girl, Rose.

"This is well-thought through!" the oldest Potter shouted, stamping one foot childishly. "Tell them, Joe!"

The tall, dark-haired boy seemed to find the situation highly amusing. "He's right. We've been planning this since early September, and we're certain we can get away scot-clean. There's no reason for you guys to be worried. We're professionals, remember?"

"Exactly."

"Professionals?" McMoore snorted from Rose's side, "Is that why you've gotten seventy-three detentions since you first set foot in Hogwarts? Well done, boys, slow clap to you. You put the great Fred and George Weasely to shame with your antics."

Joe didn't seem to pick up on the sarcasm. "Thanks, we'll take it as a compliment."

"Please, James," Albus pleaded with his brother, "I don't want you getting expelled. Sneaking into the sealed-off dungeons is a suicide mission!"

Scorpius raised an eyebrow at that, hoping the present company wouldn't notice his presence a little longer so that he could continue to eavesdrop. Unfortunately, he was out of luck. At that moment, Rose Weasely noticed the pale blond hair at the edge of her vision. The fierce red-head narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here?" she accused, bringing the others' attention to the lone figure.

"Uh, studying?" He met her challenging blue eyes with his silver. "This is the Gryffindor _common room, _is it not? And last time I checked, I _am _a Gryffindor."

Rose snorted. "Oh please. You've been disowning this house since you got sorted into it. Everyone knows you wanted to be a Slytherin, and ever since we got stuck with you, you've been doing your best to ignore your housemates!"

There was a brief moment of awkward silence as the Malfoy and Weasely glared at each other from across the room. Then Scorpius slammed his charms book shut. "Fine," he declared dramatically, rolling up his essay, "You can have the room. I was going to head to bed anyways." He made his way up the stairs, trying his best to appear dignified.

"By the way," he added on the catwalk as he headed for the boys' dormitories, "Next time you lot want to discuss illegitimate plans to get yourself expelled, try checking around to make sure nobody overhears you. Then you won't have to chase anyone out, praying they keep their silence."

He noted with satisfaction the guilty look on Weasely's face before he slammed the door.

_Merlin, what an annoying family, _he thought as he made his way up the boys' stairs to the first-years' dorms. It wasn't his fault that they had been too stupid to check a room before bursting in, exclaiming what he assumed was top-secret plans. Once again, he questioned his placement in Gryffindor- they had no sense of natural cunning when it came to these things.

He gladly realized that none of his roommates were back yet, so he'd be able to finish his homework without much disruption. The other boys were okay enough, but clearly felt uncomfortable around him. Salix was a small, skinny boy who seemed terrified of Scorpius and had the bed directly opposite his own. Vincent seemed like a typical Gryffindor air-head. Gavin didn't strike the Malfoy as particularly fascinating, although he was obsessed with Quidditch. The only one he had a hard time figuring out was John, who occupied the bed furthest from the door. He seemed a nice chap, but rarely interacted with the other three roommates and didn't spend much time in the dorms or common room. In fact, Scoprius was pretty sure he'd only heard him talk twice: once when he claimed his bed on their first might at Hogwarts, and again when the boys were getting too rowdy too late at night and John had shouted at them to shut up.

Pushing thoughts of his roommates out of his mind, Scorpius went to sit by the window. The glass was long and reached to floor level, offering a beautiful vista of the grounds and lake. The blond would never admit it to his family, but one of the best parts of Gryffindor was the view it offered; the more he thought on it, the more Scorpius was sure he would never have gotten use to the dark, murky underwater scene offered by the Slytherin windows. He liked living in the tower- if offered a sense of security while still feeling warm and welcoming.

As he contemplated the comparisons between life under the Snake versus the Lion, a familiar figure glided in the now-opened window with a soft _chrrr. _"Hey Nocorta," he murmured as he stroked the eagle owl's stiff back feathers. The aviary blinked slowly in response, nestling closer to the boy he had come to know and bond with in the past three years.

Scorpius only just noticed the small envelope in the large owl's beak, and he felt his heart rate speed up. He'd recognize the neat scrawl of his mother anywhere if the Malfoy family seal hadn't been a dead giveaway. The first-year felt exceedingly nervous, recalling what he had been telling his parents in his previous letters over the past several months. He turned the neat envelope over in his hands twice, examining the ornately written _Scorpius H. Malfoy_ at the front address.

He sighed deeply, tucking the letter under the pillow on his bed behind him. Scorpius wasn't in the mood to read his mother's overly-cheerful messages, certainly filled with sickeningly-sweet praise he did nothing to merit. _I'll read it and reply soon enough,_ he promised himself silently, _but not right now._ He was in higher spirits than he had been in months, thanks to his new friend, and was not eager to spoil it so soon.

Instead, he opened up his charms book to where he had left off so he could continue his homework in the early-evening moonlight.

* * *

**There ends Chapter 4!**

**I know it's a bit shorter than the others so far (500 words less), but I felt like all the new information that came with this chapter would make up for it. We got a lot more background on what's been going on with Scorpius since he arrived- and if you're upset that I left out some things (like his thoughts when he first met Rose and Albus on the trains, among other things), fret not! Those will also be revisited, just not here and now. **

**Nick's a pretty friendly and optimistic character, so I'm glad he of all people was the one to finally approach Scorpius. I felt like if it was anyone else, including Albus or Rose, it would have felt too forced, too much like I'm trying to hurry up and get them to be friends. For now, they just share a mutual friend. **

**And keep an eye on John- he plays important parts later down the line.**

**Also, sorry if my writing came off as an attitude of Slytherins all being stupid and stuff- that's just Scorpius being a bit high and mighty. I'm actually a Slytherin myself!**

**Make sure to pop off a review before you hit the back button! **


	5. Offered Compensation

**Special thanks to LilyMay77, who pointed out a small plot hole from last chapter. As a first year Gryffindor, Albus would also be a roommate of Scorpius. It was easy enough to fix, so I remedied it in this chapter.**

**As always, your reviews are my primary source of motivation!**

* * *

It wasn't Rose's fault that her cousin was a complete idiot. It wasn't her fault that he was turning out to be as big of a trouble maker as his grandfather. But she believed that if she didn't at least _try_ to convince James to give up his foolish plan, then she would be a failure as a relative (and a disappointment to herself).

That was the reason why she was currently waiting in the Gryffindor common room late that night. Having claimed one of the oversize armchairs, she sat with a book in her hands, although her eyes only skimmed the words; her mind was elsewhere. Rose was far too worried that James and Joe's plan for Halloween night would go awry, as most of their ideas did, and that they would be thrown out of Hogwarts before you could say 'quidditch'. Even worse, now that Malfoy knew, her cousin could be ratted out on before too soon.

Merlin, she couldn't stand that smug-faced blond. He thought himself so high and above everyone else, simply expecting people to listen and hang to his every word, to follow him around with adoring faces. Rose couldn't understand why- it wasn't like he had had much luck since he had arrived; any normal person would have realized their mistake, but not Malfoy. He irritated her like no other.

Her thoughts on him were interrupted when the portrait swung open, admitting the one person she had been waiting for for hours.

"Teddy!" she exclaimed, leaping up from her cozy armchair and running to hug him.

"Whoa, Rosie! What's this all about?" Being a metamorphmagus like his mother, Teddy Lupin currently had his hair set to red; not the trademark Weasely sort of ginger, but a deep crimson to reflect his house's color. Rose guessed he must have been feeling particularly patriotic. "I mean, I know we don't hang out all that much at Hogwarts, but I feel this greeting is a little over-the-top."

"Right, sorry," she apologized, feeling a little red in the face. "I've just been waiting for you for a while now. Where have you been? Corven said you weren't in your dorm room, and it's past curfew."

Teddy shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, here and there."

The Weasely narrowed her eyes at her old family friend. He wasn't the sort to go sneaking about the castle late at night, so he must have had a good reason. Still, it was odd for him. "Whatever. Listen, I need you to talk to James."

"Aren't you capable of doing that yourself?"

"He won't listen to me, or Albus for that matter. I thought that since he actually has some respect for you, he may heed a warning from your mouth rather than his younger cousin." Rose checked the common room once more to make sure no one else was up- she wasn't going to make that mistake twice. "He's planning on exploring the sealed dungeon."

If she expected for Teddy to burst out in rage at his cousin's stupidity, Rose was sadly disappointed. He merely blinked at her expectantly. "And?"

"What do you mean, 'and?'! Talk him out of it! He'll listen to you!"

"Rose, I've known about James's little scheme for months now," he replied, looking amused.

"You _what?!"_

"I don't really see too much harm in it. I mean, yeah, the area may be dangerous, but there's a good chance that the teachers are just taking precautions."

"Like with the forbidden forest? You think they're being overcautious about that, too? Have you not _heard_ the stories Uncle Harry and Dad tell?"

"Look," Teddy explained impatiently, "James will never give up trying to find a way in. If I talk him out of it now, he'll just try again down the road, next time without a plan I've approved. He's nosy, arrogant, and too curious for his own good. Maybe if we're lucky, something down there will spook him, and then he'll think twice about venturing where he's not suppose to in the future. Otherwise, not much harm can come to him."

Rose was utterly speechless. She had always thought of Teddy as sensible and smart- this seemed almost outside his personality. "Do you even hear yourself?" she screeched. "Even if whatever's down there doesn't kill him, he could be caught and expelled! Is that what you want for your oldest godbrother?"

Teddy shook his head. "Lower your voice, it's late. I'm not going to sit here and argue with you. From what I've seen, his plan seems pretty fool-proof, and I doubt he'll get caught. Now if you'll excuse me-"

"It's not foolproof!" Rose whispered fiercely. "Malfoy knows!"

The seventh year frowned at that. "That's not good. Have you asked him if he plans on telling?"

"What?" the red-head blinked in confusion. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I would think that if you couldn't convince James, you would at least do your best to protect his scheme. Or do you want him to go blabbing to Professor McGonagall?" Teddy sighed, turning back towards the stairs and to his bed. He spoke his last words over his shoulder. "Just ask if he'll keep his silence. I'm beat, so I'll say goodnight." And with that, he was gone.

Rose wasn't sure what to think, standing frozen in the empty common room for a few minutes. _That meeting did not go anywhere near how I thought it would.  
_Jumping out of her shocked state at the soft chime of the midnight clock stroke, she suddenly realized how tired she was. It was late, and she had school tomorrow. Slowly she dragged her feet up the seemingly never-ending dormitory staircase to her room.

It was dark in the room, the only source of light from the meek half-moon peeking between cloudy skies. Clearly her room mates had not waited for her return. Rose knew the room well enough by now not to need her wand to see. Having already changed into her pajamas before her long wait in the common room, she made her way to her bed. Though tired, her mind was racing with the recent argument. Teddy, of all people, had agreed with James's decision to explore dangerous grounds? If she hadn't known better, Rose might have suspected he was under some sort of spell. In all her years of knowing Ted, he had never seemed like the type to approve such a lunatic idea; he got excellent grades, was a prefect, and had a rather stern mindset. Unless, of course, that was all an act- Teddy was more than six years older than her, so they didn't hang around much at school. For all she knew, he could be sneaking out at night to do all kinds of dangerous stunts. It didn't seem like the guy that Rose had known in her childhood; but then again, he had always looked up to his mother and father's reputations, and part of that included being troublemakers at school. Perhaps he was merely more discreet than they had been.

Rose's mind drifted towards Teddy's last words to her. _Just ask if he'll keep his silence._ Ha! Like she'd ever beg to that blond jerk. Yet, the threat of his knowledge loomed over her. If Malfoy told one of the professors about James's extra-curricular activity on Halloween, she'd never forgive herself if she had known she may have been able to prevent it.

Clearly convincing James and Joseph to abandon their plan would be pointless, and now Rose knew she didn't even have Teddy's support in this. Should she ask Victorie, or maybe Dominique? They were the only other older cousins at Hogwarts. But she pushed the thought away angrily. James would never listen to any of his female cousins, even if they were older- as for younger relations, there was no hope. The oldest Potter was of the opinion that anybody beneath his age 'knew nothing equivalent to the knowledge of his experiences!'

"Experiences at detention!" Rose muttered crossly to herself.

"Whassat?" replied a drowsy voice from across the room. It sounded like Syla.

The red-head turned over on her side, hugging the pillow to her head. Nobody would be able to convince James out of his stupidity. Rose could always write a letter to Uncle Harry, but the thought was dismissed as soon as it occurred- that would only end terribly. Harry would either write to his son, demanding him to forget the foolish scheme (which would probably fuel James on even more), or tell the Professors, which would land her cousin in deep trouble anyways. Despite his inflated ego, she didn't want to wish that upon him.

Rose took a deep breath, realizing that what Teddy had said was right. If she couldn't get James to give up, she had to try to cover for him as much as possible. _Guess I'll have to talk to Malfoy. _

* * *

The weather was steadily growing colder and windier as the month of October dragged on. With the big Ravenclaw versus Slytherin match coming up, each house team was growing excited- the contenders for obvious reasons, and Hufflepuff and Gryffindor eager to view their rivals new tactics and advances.

Rose, too, was beginning to feel the buzz of the game. She had inherited her father's love for Quidditch, eagerly following the Chudley Cannons since she was just a little tyke. However, she tried to keep her interest in the sport under wraps, refusing to submit to buying merchandise and posters to litter her room back at home. Besides, compared to the rest of her family, she wasn't a particularly skilled flier- not bad, but rather dull.

Unfortunately, her excitement for the sport could not outweigh her growing sense of apprehension. Halloween was just two days away, and she still hadn't spoken to Malfoy about keeping the secret he'd overheard that night to himself. Rose's excuse to herself was that it was because the time never seemed right, but she knew that she was just putting off the inevitable fact that she'd have to talk to the insufferable jerk. Her dislike of the boy continued to grow, despite his lack of further distasteful actions. True, he ignored her completely and still seemed like a smug prat, but had done nothing particularly wrong in the past week. Yet in Rose's head she continued to fester her intense animosity, turning over every rotten thing he'd done to her (and others) since day one at school. Her father's word of warning on Platform 9 3/4 rang in her head continuously: _"Don't get too close to him, Rosie, or Grandfather Weasely will never forgive you."_

_Hmph, she _thought to herself,_ as if I could ever grow close to the likes of him._

Still, for the sake of her idiotic cousin, she needed to find a good time to pull him aside for a quick word. Thankfully it was Friday evening, so it shouldn't take her long to locate him at dinner.

Sure enough, sitting at his usual end of the Gryffindor table, the blond sat next to Nick Renskallius, having an animated discussion with the Scot. Rose couldn't understand what her friend saw in Malfoy but respected him enough not to pressure him. Besides, Malfoy seemed amicable enough with Nick, so there didn't seem much ground to challenge their friendship.

Ignoring her usual spot beside Albus and Katie, Rose made he way down to the two and promptly plopped herself in a seat across from them. "Hello," she said, hoping her smile seemed genuine. Judging by the weird looks the two boys gave her, it was as brittle as it felt. Ignoring the questioning looks from her friends further down, she leaned forward towards the blond across from her, pushing a platter of drumsticks out of the way. "We need to talk," she said pointedly.

Malfoy only raised an eyebrow. "We do?"

"Yes. About what you heard my cousins and I speaking about last week."

"Oh, that." His face split into a devious grin. "You should be more careful where you talk about such things."

Growing more irritated by the second, Rose merely nodded. "Look, I can't make you not talk, but I would...appreciate it if you kept what you now know to yourself. I don't exactly think it's James's brightest plan, but I don't think he should be expelled for it, either."

Malfoy took a bite of lemon chicken, chewing thoughtfully and taking his time to swallow. Rose resisted the urge to strangle him. "Appreciate it? I'm sure you would. But what's in it for me?"

"Hey, Scorpius," Nick interjected, looking uncomfortable, "can't you just-"

"No, wait, I want to hear this."

The red-head glared at her fast-growing enemy. "I have nothing to offer you," she replied coldly.

"How about this... I'll make you an offer, and it's up to you and your family if you accept my terms." All teasing was gone from his voice, meeting Rose's blue eyes with his serious silver ones. "Let me come with him, and I won't tell."

"What?" Rose cried, forgetting where she was. She lowered her voice when heads turned. "Why do you care about what's in the dungeons?"

"Aren't I allowed to be curious? Aren't _you_ curious?"

The Weasely hadn't really given it much thought. So focused had she been on keeping James from getting in trouble that she had never really asked herself that question. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she was highly interested in what was locked up deep in the school's lower levels- or more importantly, why there was anything to lock up in Hogwarts in the first place. "I suppose," she reluctantly admitted.

Malfoy sat back, looking satisfied.

"That doesn't mean I'd risk expulsion to find out!" she argued, unsettled by his smug expression. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"But satisfaction brought it back," he countered. "Similarly to your cousin, the thought of what could be down there has been eating at me since it was announced. It reminds me of the stories my dad told about when he was in school: the Chamber of Secrets, the trap door hiding the Philosopher's stone—"

"In case you forgot," Nick interrupted dryly, reminding them of his presence, "the people who explored those were nearly killed."

Malfoy waved away his comment dismissively. "Whatever. The point is, there was always something fascinating in those places. I'm not saying we need to throw yourself into danger and be all heroic like Potter..." he curled his lip at the name, "but simply gratify our own curiosity. You can't tell me you aren't inclined."

He was right, of course, but Rose didn't want to give him that satisfaction. "Look, I don't care if you go with James," she snapped impatiently, "as long as you don't rat him out. Don't expect me to accompany you three."

"Sure. It might actually be fun if you don't come!"

"Shut up."

Sliding down the bench to her friends, Rose tried to cool her rising temper. Arrogant toerag. Either Malfoy and James would get along swimmingly or they'd be at each other's throats—the thought almost made Rose regret not going.

"What was that about?" Katie whispered to her when she joined them.

"Nothing to worry about," the red-head assured, "just making sure James doesn't get ratted out. Malfoy made me promise to let him go along with the plan in return, that's all."

Albus narrowed his eyes to where the blond now sat down the table. Nick seemed to be arguing with him intensely over something, with his friend only offering a few words or a shrug in response. "James might not like that," he warned.

"James doesn't have a choice," Katie retorted. "He got himself into this mess in the first place, so he should be grateful Rose tried to clean it up."

Rose knew that it wasn't entirely her cousin's fault, as they had all been speaking loudly that night in the common room, but she said nothing. Instead, she drizzled onion gravy on her potatoes. "He's such a prick," she muttered to nobody in particular.

"Who? James? I'll agree to that."

"No, Malfoy!" Rose protested, stifling a laugh at Albus's response. "He acts so high and mighty all the time. I wish he would deflate his ego a bit."

The younger Potter shrugged. "I don't know, he seems okay enough to me. Yeah, he was kind of a jerk for the first few months, but he seems to have cooled down a bit."

"Especially since Nick befriended him," Katie added.

Rose frowned. She was not expecting her friends to defend Malfoy. "Yeah, well…"

"I share a room with him, remember?" Albus helped himself to a platter of honeyed ham, looking thoughtful. "Him, Gavin, Vincent, Salux and I. Oh, and John."

"Sounds like a squeeze."

"It's not too bad. Vincent's an airhead but is mostly out of the dorms anyways. Gavin and Salux can be a little rowdy from time to time, but they'll tone it down if you ask. Malfoy seems to keep to himself, not a bad roommate—at least, he doesn't come to bed at unreasonable hours or leave his stuff strewn all over."

Katie picked at her melting ice cream, already full from a large helping of dinner. "How come there's six Gryffindor boys and only three girls in our year?"

"I think it just varies annually. Like there's a lot of Hufflepuff first-year girls and only a few guys."

"What about John?" Rose interrupted, re-routing the topic. "You didn't say much about him."

"Oh. Well, none of us really know him very well. He's really quiet and reserved: taciturn, you might say. That's him down the table, next to Wendy."

Rose craned her neck over the many bowed heads at Gryffindor table, as did Katie. It took a few moments to spot him on the far end: dark brown hair and a book in one hand as he ate. It was hard to get a good look at him.

"I rarely see him except at meal times or before bed," Albus continued. "Besides class, of course. Dunno where he spends his free time, but it's not in the tower. Anywho, I guess my roommates could be worse—Cormac told me his snore like a belching frog."

"Is he really not all the bad?" Rose asked curiously. "Malfoy, I mean. He's always been a toad to me, but I guess you're right that he's seemed to have gotten better in the last week."

The young Potter shrugged. "I don't know whether or not he's a good personality. I just know he's easy to deal with when you live with him. But trust Nick a bit more. He's a Ravenclaw, after all, and they're good at judging characters. Maybe he sees something we don't."

Rose couldn't help but doubt it.

* * *

By the time Halloween rolled around a few days later, the entire school was abuzz. Professor Kratchet, the charms teacher, set about raising the jack-o-lanterns to float above the tables where the candles normally did. Two sixth year Slytherins had enchanted a flock of paper bats to fly around the halls. Some of the younger students rigged rotten pumpkins to be flung at Dolvowitz's window, for which they were given a month's worth of detention.

Having come from a magical family, Rose had heard all about the Halloween feast from her parents. Several times her mother told the story of her own first year when a mountain troll had been admitted through the school dungeon. Hermione would have been killed if it weren't for Uncle Harry and Dad. Despite her mother's teasing letter from a few weeks ago about having her own circumstance on Halloween, Rose doubted she would approve of the current plan. _Dear Mum_, _Guess what? James, his annoying friend, and Malfoy are sneaking down to the forbidden level tonight to get a glimpse at the dangerous thing holed up there! This will bond us together, won't it? Thanks for the advice! _Rose smiled briefly at the thought of her mother's reaction to reading such a letter.

Right now she sat in the warm sunshine outside, her back leaning against the cool stones of the school's outer walls. Albus, Katie, and Nick were with her, enjoying the view. Down the hill the Quidditch pitch was alive with last-minute Ravenclaw training, and even from their distance, the four friends could hear the occasional shout of Captain Bayfield as he berated one of his team mates.

"I wish I could play Quidditch," Nick was saying, one hand above his eyes to shield them from the noon sun.

"Maybe not this year, but second years are allowed to try out," Katie tried to assure her friend. "You won't have to wait too long. Just practice a lot over the summer when you get home."

The Scot buried his face in his hands. "But I don't have a broom stick! How would I practice without one?"

Rose found that it was easy to forget that Nick was muggleborn; he was whip-smart and such a natural with spells that one might believe he had done it his whole life. She envied his easy skill at magical art. "Well, your birthday is in May," she pointed out kindly. "You could try asking for one then. It doesn't need to be a very fancy or new broom- in fact, you can get second-hands for reasonably cheap."

He shook his head resignedly. "What, like an old Comet 42? If I want to be on the Ravenclaw team, I'll have to be fast enough to keep up with both my team mates and opponents. I mean, look at James Potter; he has a Stormchaser 500! It's one of the fastest brooms out there right now."

"You don't necessarily need speed for all parts of Quidditch," Albus interjected. "Take beaters for instance; their main goal is to deflect the bludgers from their team, and even an ancient Cleansweep 7 could keep up with those reasonably well. Or keeper position- they need a decent amount of speed, but they mostly have to have good balance in order to stay on their broom during sudden pitfalls to protect the goal rings."

"I suppose," Nick replied weakly, though Rose could tell he felt a little better. "I guess this is assuming I get on the team at all."

"I'm sure you will," Katie comforted. "Don't let stereotypes bring you down. I know the general consensus is that brainy folk are rubbish at sports, but that's a load of bogglewash. Look at Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies: she was a brilliant player, but also academically gifted. Don't worry about it, Nick, I'm sure you'll be great."

Rose quietly shared in Nick's doubts. She herself, while a great lover of Quidditch, wasn't sure that her passion would make her a great flier. Sure, she wanted to try out for the Gryffindor team when the time came- she just hoped she would have inherited her father's skill rather than her mother's. "Teddy's been excited for the game," she said absently. "Being the Gryffindor captain, he wants to examine the opposing teams' tactics."

Her Ravenclaw friend snorted, "Good luck. Bayfield's too smart to use the same feints over and over again. What you see in an hour you won't see again, so there'll be nothing to hold over us!"

The four friends argued playfully on the subject of rival Quidditch teams, pointing out each others' weaknesses and playthroughs. Slowly they made their way back inside the school, where they split away from Nick with a few final teasing words- they would have to change into something more comfortable for the windy stands of the pitch.

* * *

Ignoring the prone figure of Syla as she napped on her bed, Rose picked out her Gryffindor scarf and matching hat from her trunk. Though it had been a pleasant temperature outside in the sunshine, clouds had been drifting across the skies, and it would be chilly in the shade. Having already had lunch in the past hour, she bid farewell to her unresponsive room mate and headed downstairs to the common room.

'Packed' probably wasn't quite the right word to describe the main chamber, but it certainly seemed crowded to Rose. A large group of Gryffindors were huddled together, excitement radiating from the black robed students as they gathered to head down to the Quidditch pitch. She spotted her house's team, lead by Teddy Lupin, among them. "The game starts in fifteen minutes!" someone called out. "We should head over there now if we don't want to miss it."

"Right!" Joseph Finnigan, one of the team's beaters, called out in his foghorn voice. "Remember everyone, enjoy the game, but remember what could be useful in the future for us! Some of us have particular players we're suppose to keep an eye on- you know who you are!"

"Right, thanks Joe," Teddy muttered, sounding slightly cross. "Let's head out."

With a great amount of chattering the group squeezed out the portrait hole two at a time. Katie and Albus were swept up with the crowd, leaving Rose to tag along at the rear. However, before she could climb through, a flash of blond hair pushed his way into the common room. The red-head blinked in surprise as Scorpius Malfoy swept past her. "Hey," she called out, unable to help her curiosity, "Aren't you going to the game?"

"Nope," he responded bluntly, plonking himself onto one of the overstuffed armchairs and pulling out a book.

Rose was surprised. Most students looked forward to Quidditch matches (even those who didn't care much for the sport got caught up in the excitement). If anything, she would have expected him to be supporting Slytherin this game. She didn't have him pegged as someone who would willingly stay behind in the deserted common room. "Why not?"

Malfoy sent her an irritated glance. "Because I don't really feel like sitting up in cold, windy stands to watch two teams I couldn't care less about. Besides, I have some charms homework to do."

"Oh. Okay then." Rose frowned at the lone boy. He was impossible to understand sometimes. Ever since he had arrived, he had made it clear how he felt about his house placement, continually hanging around that Slytherin group like a lost puppy. Now he openly admitted to her that he had no love for the Slytherin quidditch team. Whose side was he on? _Can't he make up his mind?_

As Rose turned to climb out the portrait hole after the long-gone crowd, Scorpius called out to her. "Hey Weasely, wait! Do you know the plan for tonight? Like when your cousin's sneaking out? I haven't had a chance to talk to him."

"He's leaving at one," Rose replied bitterly over her shoulder. She still thought the whole plan was a practically a plea for expulsion. Ignoring Malfoy's small noise of agreement, she pushed her way out onto the Grand Staircase and down towards the grounds. _Stupid, stupid boys._ Did they have no sense of wits about them? Sure, Rose could understand their sense of fascination with the sealed dungeon. And, okay, she was tempted to check it out for herself. But that didn't mean she would!

Nobody was inclined to fulfill their curiosity. That was a choice...right?

* * *

**End for Chapter 5!**

**Sorry I didn't update all weekend. I had a particularly busy one, what with volunteering, the MFL, and getting caught up on Math. To make up for the wait, I made this one a little longer! I hope it was a satisfactory chapter for y'all. **

**I think there'll be two more chapters after this for first year before we skip to third year. Haven't quite decided on how long we'll dwell there, but probably not more than four chapters. **

**If I succeeded in my writing, Rose should be coming off as hard-headed and quick-tempered- she gets this from her dad! I also thought it might be a bit fun and different if I stepped out of the "Rose barely cares about quidditch" stereotype. We'll see how this progresses. **

**Please review like always!**


	6. Descent

**Hey guys! I know it's been awhile since I've updated. I'll explain later; for now, just enjoy the new chapter (it's extra-long)!**

**Also, sorry if the first half comes off as choppy/boring/generally not great writing. I had a lot of trouble with imagining the first scene of the chapter and it may show. Apologies!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 6**

* * *

Despite the extreme comfort that Hogwarts mattresses offered, along with their too-soft-to-be-true pillows, and sheets that stayed a perfect temperature, Rose couldn't sleep. Outwardly, her body was as tired as any other student would be at 12:46 at night, but inside her mind was racing as fast as Syla went through books. It was frustrating her to no end. She wanted to sleep. She didn't care that her cousin, his friend, and her almost-rival would be leaving on a tenacious quest to venture into the sealed dungeon. She didn't mind in the slightest that would meet in the common room in less than fifteen minutes. And she _certainly_ didn't think she could possibly be blamed if they were caught by Finch and expelled.

He self-pressed thoughts did nothing to convince herself of her true worries. Okay, so she was a bit of a worrywart; but _someone_ needed to look out for her dim-witted daredevil cousin and his equally delinquent friend. Her father has always insisted to Rose that she had inherited her mother's sense of priorities and caution (much to Hermione's relief), and he had always seemed to appreciate it as a good trait. "_Can't have you leaping into danger like Uncle Harry_ and_ I use to,_" he had said. "_Thank Merlin we had your mother to_ _pull up back from the precipice a few times_."

Rose rolled over on one side, blinking through tired eyes at the shadow Katie's chess table threw on its owner's bed. _Night changes everything,_ she thought blearily to herself. _What can appear like one thing in the daylight hours can be totally transformed in the shine of moon light._ She wasn't sure where this brief burst of poetic thought came from, but it sounded nice in her head. Maybe she should look into a future as a poet.

"I need sleep," she groaned aloud softly, realizing how idiotic her thoughts were.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and Rose began to grow more and more desperate for the comforting peace of unconsciousness to creep over her. If she wasn't awake, she couldn't think about the secret venture taking place; if she couldn't think about the secret venture taking place, she couldn't grow more tempted by the prospects of it. Yet her mind didn't seem able to slow down enough for sleep to claim her. Instead, thoughts about the mission flew through her mind like owls in a storm, each laden with more ridiculous notions than the last. Naturally, most of them were a mix between worry and curiosity. _What if there's a curfew alarm that nobody knows about? Could Finch or a teacher be permanently stationed at the dungeon stairs for precaution? What if there's something truly deadly down there? What if that something killed her cousin? Oh Merlin, how am I ever going to live with myself knowing I killed James Sirius Potter, oldest son of the famous Harry Potter?!_

"Whoa, take it easy there, Rose," she murmured to herself. The tiredness must be making her think irrationally. If whatever down there was truly deadly, then it'd probably be guarded with more advanced spells than James could ever get through. After all, he was only a third year.

Still, a lot of things could go wrong with Jester James and Joking Joe at the reins of things. Teddy has assured Rose he felt their plan foolproof, but that wasn't a certainty that those two wouldn't muck it up. They needed someone who'd have their wits about them, someone quicker with their brain than feet. The idea of something going wrong could be minimalized by Rose's presence in the event that improvising would be needed…

_No, Rose, you can't afford to think like that!_ The red-head chastised herself. Thinking like that would only encourage her curiosity; something she had been very affirmative on in the light of day.

Yet, when the soft chime of the one o'clock hour could be heard from the common room, Rose heaved a sigh and threw back her covers. She didn't even know what the plan was—what if it wasn't as foolproof as Teddy had insisted? They still had to explain it to Malfoy. Mayhap she'd be lucky enough to even overhear them explain it to him in! The hope was doubtful, but was enough to spur Rose to swing her legs out of bed, shivering when her bare feet made contact with the cold floor; the sheets may have been magical, but the stone floor of an old drafty castle were doubtfully enchanted to remain warm at all times, even in the chill of autumn. Rose, as quietly as she could without disturbing her room mates, set about to hunt for some of her thick, fuzzy socks to keep her toes warm.

_Clunk._ Despite her best attempts to remain silent, the trunk she was rooting through earlier shut itself while Rose was slipping on some lime green socks. To further her dismay, Syla sat up straight in her bed. "Whassat? Whas goin' on?"

The red-head momentarily froze. If she said she was leaving for the bathroom, her roommate may fully waken and realize her surroundings. So, praying that she was right about Syla's level of wakefulness, she replied softly, "A kookaburra calls in the night. Sleep now, Cordo, let it cradle our minds to sleep!"

It seemed to work. "Aye, right," the drowsy girl responded, settling back down, "Kookaburras…mmmm…"

Rose breathed a sigh of relief and was thankful she paid some attention to Syla's choice of books. Her roommate read some whacked out stuff, but her recent addiction to an Australian wizard of the 17th century and his strangely written plays seemed particularly unsavory to Rose.

Quietly, she slipped out the door and down the spiral staircase to the catwalk. Thankfully, the stair trends were stone, so she had no fear of creaking wood giving her away. With caution she made her way to the railing and peeked over into the common room.

At first she saw nobody and disappointment wracked her. Had they given up their original mission? Her fears from earlier momentarily abandoned her at the thought. Rose had been looking forward to overhearing the plan, curious to know what they had in store. It had absolutely nothing to do with wishing she was brave enough to join them.

She caught a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision. Staring intently towards the center of the common room, she had failed to scrutinize the chamber's edges- had she done so sooner, she may have noticed an unfamiliar black shape just below her. Rose now peered at the figure, trying to make out details in the darkness. It was two people- she was sure of that much- and if they were who she was expecting, Joseph and James.

"I bet he's not coming," a voice murmured beneath her.

"It's eight past one," its companion agreed. "If he was..to join us...by now...tattled?"

Despite the straining of her ears, Rose couldn't catch the last few words but could guess what they were talking about. Her cousin and his friend must have been waiting around for their third entourage, and were quickly getting fed up with his absence. _What if they're right? What if he's ratted them out after all?_

"I'm here."

The red-head didn't think she'd ever be reassured at the presence of Scorpius Malfoy. Yet she couldn't help a tiny sigh of relief at the sight of the blond-headed Gryffindor, who was quietly making his way over to the two huddled figures. With a start, Rose realized that he must have been there for longer than he had revealed himself; the catwalk connected both the stairs to the girl and boy dormitories, and she hadn't seen him come down while she had been eavesdropping.

"About time," replied a voice. One of the figures stood, and Rose was able to recognize her cousin. "What took you so long?"

"It's not my fault Salux is a freakishly light sleeper, not to mention terrified of authority. If I'd woken him up, he would have reported our little exploit immediately. If your brother's thundersnores hadn't helped cover my noise, we'd probably all be sitting in Longbottom's office right now!"

James ignored the dig at Albus. "Yeah yeah, don't expect me to thank you. We should move out."

As the two third-years moved towards the portrait hole, Malfoy's scornful expression turned uneasy. "Wait, aren't you going to let me in on the plan?"

"What plan?"

"You know...the point of action we're taking to get inside the sealed dungeon?"

"Oh, that," James acknowledged dismissively. "Step one: go to the lower levels. Step two: enter."

"That's it?" Scorpius gaped at the two who stood confidently in front of him. "Are you out of your minds? Without a proper strategy we'd be caught with five minutes of stepping out after curfew! We'll never make it down the Grand Staircase, nevermind our actual destination."

"Keep your voice down," Joe hushed, speaking for the first time.

"Look, are you in or not?" James asked irritatedly. "We're going, with or without you."

"Are you guys insane?!"

Three heads turned upward towards the catwalk where the new voice had come from. Rose realized too late that she had said the thought aloud, blowing her perfect eavesdropping position. Quickly, she turned to descend into the common room, figuring that since they had already seen her, there was no harm to be done by drawing closer. Besides, muted muttering was a better option than loud stage whispers across the tower chamber and waking the whole of Gryffindor. "James, this must be one of the stupidest things you've done...and that's saying a lot!"

Her cousin in question looked struck between surprised and affronted; Joe appeared confused at her presence, and Malfoy seemed rather curious.

"Teddy told me he approved your plan!" she gritted out fiercely. Had he lied to her? _I'm gonna kill him for letting James kill himself!_

"He certainly didn't. He's been trying to convince us for the past week that we're idiots."

"That's probably because you are!"

"Gee, can't appreciate my genius? Sucks for you. I'm not waiting around anymore for this little midnight family gathering. Let's go Joe- leave these two spineless fish to wail in worry."

Scorpius took a step forward. "Hang on a second! Just because I haven't got bees for brains and actually value caution doesn't mean I'm unwilling to go!" he growled. "I'm coming."

Rose wanted to melt into a puddle of despair. _Boys!_ Did they have no sense? Any reason Malfoy might have had flew out the window the minute James insulted his pride. _Why are male egos so fragile?_ She didn't particularly care about the blond, but she knew two things: it may have been easier to convince the two third-years to back out if she had someone on her side; and he was Nick's friend- she felt a sense of duty to look out for the boy, even if just for that.

She could easily see the three of them, bumbling around the hallways in the dead of night, relying on luck to dodge the several prefect sentries, professors, and Filch. "What if you run into Filch?" she asked, desperate to find a way to put them off.

Her cousin snorted, "That old squib? He's what, eighty years old or somethin'? We'll outrun him."

"And when he tells Headmaster McGonagall about it the next day?"

When James hesitated and shuffled his feet slightly, Rose could tell he hadn't thought much on the occasion if they were caught. They only saw the adventure before them, not the consequences. Blindness like that was one of Gryffindor's key downfalls, the willingness to let pride and craving of curiosity to lead the way instead of logic. The thirst for big-time accomplishment is what drove the lion-and-scarlet house.

"Look..." Rose sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Going in without a contingency plan isn't just stupid. It's suicide."

"Our dads never had one!" James argued.

"That's because it was always a spur-of-the-moment, life-or-death situation," she shot back. "Besides, trouble followed Harry Potter around whether he liked it or not. Their calamities didn't occur because of their curiosity. This...this is just you wanting to satisfy your mind more than anything."

For a split second, uncertainty brewed in James Potter's brown eyes, and Rose actually hoped that he might abolish the whole foolish operation. But it was only a brief flash, and the stubborn determination of their family was back. "We're going," he repeated firmly, turning to leave. Joseph and Malfoy exchanged a glance before moving to follow him.

In that instant, Rose made a split decision that she would later come to regret. "I'm coming with you!" she blurted out.

James stopped dead in his tracks, half-stepping into the portrait hole. Slowly, he lowered his foot and turned around to face Rose, face a picture of total bemusement. "What?"

"Let me come with you!" she restated in a loud whisper. She felt as confused by her words as James seemed to; it was as if her tongue had a mind of its own. "Clearly this isn't a very well thought out plan- that much we've established. But let me lay out the facts for you; for one, I'll never be able to sleep tonight, knowing that you'll be romping around the school after curfew as if you were on a springtime picnic at mid-noon."

"Why?" This time is was Joseph who cut in. He seemed suspicious rather than puzzled.

"Because...well, even if you guys are a bunch of blockheaded numbskulls, I feel a sense of responsibility if I knew I could help you and I didn't." With each word she spoke, Rose began to grow more and more confident. "The second reason for coming along is that I admit I myself am curious. I never said anything before, only because I knew if I conceded that I, too, was as eager to know what dwelt in the lower levels of the place we call home for a great majority of the year, then that would only spur you further. Convincing you to abandon this foolhardy plan then would have been impossible, as you would have used my own interest against me in any possible argument. I never gave up hope that you would see sense in the weeks leading up to tonight. Now I see that unfortunately, nothing is going to convince you. So here's what I have to offer you: take me with you. You and I both know that the more trusted members that are on your little escapade, the easier this will be to pull off. I have a few valuable skills of my own, the best of which, for you, would be my subterfuge, something that will come in handy if we run into someone we'd rather not see out there. In return, you offer me the safest chance to explore the sealed dungeon. Deal?"

James looked utterly gobsmacked. Rose supposed she would probably feel the same way at her sudden display of suave talk if she hadn't been so elated. Everything she said was true; she was known around the Potter-Weasely children for her quick-thinking and natural instinct which had only further flourished in her past three months at Hogwarts. Still, her unforeseen and newly-realized skill of statistic sweeping arguments, blurted out without much forethought, had come as a surprise to everyone in the room.

The eldest Potter's mouth opened, closed, and opened again before any words came out. "You sure you have such a skill to lay on the table?"

The question was poppycock, and they both knew it. Rose had just displayed her talent and why it might come in useful if, as she had indicated, they ran into unfriendly faces. She suspected the inquiry was more to save face in front of their little audience; an afterthought wrecked before it had been spoken. "Completely," she affirmed.

For a second, James looked like he was about to argue more. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and let out a half-hearted sigh of resignation. "Okay," he agreed. "But follow my lead. Let's get going before it gets too late."

The four students did indeed follow him out of the portrait hole, stepping out into the deserted, dark corridor just outside the Gryffindor common room. Three heads turned to glare at Joseph when he sneezed, the sound muffled by his robes but still echoing through the hall. The oldest Potter lead the way to the Grand Staircase, pulling a piece of tattered parchment out of his pocket.

"What's that?" Rose murmured in quiet question.

Her cousin ignored her, instead pulling out his wand and tapping the blank parchment. Rose couldn't catch the whispered word. They must have been some sort of incantation, for ink began to swirl on the page, forming words. Before she could read the title, James was flipping it open, revealing many layers and flaps. It took the red-head only a moment to realize she was looking at a map of Hogwarts.

"This way," James muttered to the company, striking out confidently in step and choosing a western staircase. Joseph trailed behind him, looking over his shoulder every now and then, leaving Rose to tag along at the rear with Malfoy.

In all honesty, Rose had nearly forgotten about the blond. So caught up had she been in arguing with her cousin that her fellow first-year had drifted to the background- it had helped that he had barely spoken since she had made her appearance. Now he was staring at her with eyes betraying analytical thoughts. "Did you mean it?" he asked without warning in a muted undertone.

"About what?"

"When you said you were just as curious as the rest of us?" he blinked at her and tilted his head slightly. "I know you said at lunch a few days ago that you did, but to be truthful, I wasn't sure if you were serious."

This took Rose by surprise. "You thought I was lying?"

"Not necessarily," he corrected hastily, perhaps identifying the accusation in her tone. "I meant that while you did seem...impertinent about the whole thing, it was my impression that your interest lay with why the rest of us were curious. You seemed puzzled that we were inquisitive. Does that make sense?"

"I guess, though that notion was incorrect." Rose frowned. She was use to her and Malfoy butting heads and making sarcastic comments whenever the other was in earshot. Yet now he seemed sincere in his prying. Was this what he was like with Nick- amicable and civil? Why was he so confusing?

Malfoy looked like he was about to say something else, but he was violently shushed by Joseph. "Can't you two play midlife crisis some other time?" he hissed, reminding the two first-years about the situation. Both clammed up immediately, and the four students traveled in silence for the rest of the trek.

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By the time they had finally reached the dungeon entrances nearly half an hour had passed in the allotted time since their leaving of Gryffindor tower. The trip had been mostly quiet- twice James warned of patrolling prefects (how he knew their presence, Rose had no idea) but they were safely able to navigate around the threat. Now they stood just outside the former potions classroom.

Malfoy stuck his head inside the dark and unlit room, seemingly unable to resist a peek. "You guys had class in _here?_" he murmured in disbelief. "But it's so dark! Not to mention depressing."

James cuffed the younger student over the head lightly. "There were lights on during class period," he snapped.

As they continued passed the solid-looking timber door, Rose took a look of her own and couldn't help but agree with Malfoy- the classroom did appear rather gloomy, and she doubted it would have made for a cheerful workplace even in the light. _Whose idea was it to have a classroom down here, anyway? Far from the rest and in such a bleak location?_ Rose wondered if it was simply because it was close to where the potion supply closet was, or if there was a more distressing reason behind the position.

The four students picked there way down the slightly curving staircase slowly, despite the fact that the treads were stone and still in great condition; they did not abate speed due to the fear of tripping, but rather of the uneasy feeling that grew as they descended. The further down they traveled, the closer Rose drew to the three others in her company. The curved wall made it impossible to see too far ahead despite their lighted wands. Occasionally the group would pass a door- some of them wood, others steel. Conditions of the portals varied considerably, from pristine and new-looking to well-rotted and rusted. One iron door was badly dented.

As they passed by it, Rose could have sworn she heard the faintest of moans. "Did you guys hear that?" she whispered, feeling a shudder run down her spine.

James looked back from where his eyes were glued to the parchment. "Hear what?"

"There was this sort of low moaning noise..."

Malfoy took a brief glance around. "Probably just the wind shifting through." His tone was reassuring, but his eyes betrayed his own uneasiness. Rose felt even more concerned; if Scorpius Malfoy was stooping low enough to attempt to comfort _her_, there was definitely reason to be anxious. He seemed to take notice of this. "Scared, Weasely?" he taunted.

_Ah, that's more like the Malfoy I know._ "Yeah, of your bed breath," she deadpanned.

"Save it for the honeymoon, you two," James grunted, still concentrating on the map. The company lapsed into silence once more.

The lower they descended, the colder and more drafty the air became. Rose could almost feel the morality of her companions shrinking with each further step down. _Do these stairs go on forever?_ She wondered what it would be like climbing back up them. _Probably hell after going twenty hours without sleep._ That was assuming they would even make it back. _Maybe whatever down there will eat us._ Despite the growing sense of apprehension, Rose couldn't stifle a yawn. Unable to see momentarily, she promptly ran into Joseph's back as he stopped abruptly and nearly sending them both tumbling down the seemingly endless stairs.

"I don't understand," James was muttering, "the dungeons are suppose to end here!"

"Says who?" Rose asked irritatedly, still annoyed that her cousin wouldn't give her details.

"Look," he sighed, finally turning to face them, "This is called the Marauder's Map-"

"You stole that from Uncle Harry?!" She nearly shrieked, managing to keep it to a loud whisper of fury. She had heard plenty about the legendary item that had helped Harry in his troubles at Hogwarts.

"Yeah yeah, stole it from his desk drawer last year. I actually think he knows but just hasn't said anything. Maybe he realizes that it's no use to him since it only shows the school-"

"Will one of you please explain," Malfoy cut it exasperatedly, "what the bloody hell a mar-overs map is, or whatever the hell you're talking about?"

"Marauder's Map," Rose said patiently to the blond, "is a one-of-a-kind map made my Harry Potter's father, James I, and his friends. It's a perfect map of Hogwarts. Not only does it show the school, grounds, and every niche and cranny, but it also shows everybody inside it."

"This is us," James pointed out. He had several flaps and layers pulled back to reveal a winding staircase, and sure enough, four black dots appropriately labeled were shown. "The point is, from everything Joe and I have dug up in the past months on the sealed dungeon, it was suppose to be at the very bottom. According to the map, we should have reached it by now. The staircase simply stops about here on it." He showed them the map, and sure enough, no further rooms, stairs, or corridors were depicted on the blueprints. "This is the final layer, too, which means it should be the bottom layer."

"How do we know the map is correct?" Malfoy asked, eyes nervously darting from side to side.

"They show every other room, secret passage way, and space inbetween. Why shouldn't it show the dungeons properly?"

"That's not what I meant," the blond backtracked. "I mean, how do we know that the map shows everything? What if there's more to the school than what's on the map, but you don't know any better because it's all we know?" He looked hesitantly at the doubtful faces around him.

"Go on," James prompted.

"Well..." Malfoy continued slowly, "You said this map was made by James I and co, right? Do we know how the map was made?"

"That secret died with the Marauders," Rose answered sadly.

"What if the map only shows the places they know about? It would stand to reason that this, being an old, magical school, the only way to make a map of it would be to explore and make detailed notice of it. They could have found out about some passage ways and discovered a few of their own. A skilled fifth year could make a proportions charm to properly ratio the scales on the map. Look, my point is, what if what's on the map is only there because the Marauders explored it?"

Realization dawned on Rose. "If this was as far as they came into the dungeons, there'd be no additional layers to the map."

Malfoy shot her a glance as if in agreement. "Perhaps they decided that there was no need to fully explore the dungeons this deep, or maybe they just never got around to it. But if they never went further than these steps we're standing on now, that means that the map isn't wrong. It's not saying that this is where the dungeons end. This is just as far into it that the map has knowledge of."

Rose had to admit, the blond was pretty clever. Unfortunately, if he was right, their situation just got worse. "Maybe we should head back," she suggested. It was chilly, dark, and just plain creepy this deep under Hogwarts.

Even James, so confident before in his "plan", seemed uncertain. "Let's just go a little further," he suggested warily. "If we don't find anything in five minutes, we'll turn back."

So the group continued. The more Rose thought about it, the less and less she liked the idea of proceeding. If the Marauders, arguably the bravest (and most arrogant) Gryffindors in a century hadn't even come this far, what did that mean for them? She had a growing urge to turn right around a flee, nevermind the exhaustion of the stairs.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, she didn't stop until she nearly ran into Joseph again. "What's wrong this time?" she asked nervously. It had been about five minutes- maybe they were turning around?

"We've hit a wall."

"What?"

"Look."

Sure enough, right before their wand lights was a very solid looking wall. Rose squinted at it, but could see nothing unordinary about it. "That's...odd."

"Understatement. Look at the steps."

Glancing at their feet, Rose realized Malfoy was right. Instead of the stairs ending in a landing like one would commonly find, they continued to descend until they reached the wall. The sight made it look like someone had built it mid-way between the stairs. "Weird," she murmured aloud, mostly to herself.

"Could this be the entrance to the sealed dungeon?" Malfoy suggested. He didn't seem too enthusiastic. Rose might have teased him for chickening out on the adventure he forced himself into if she wasn't as unhappy as he was.

"Maybe," James said thoughtfully. "Perhaps it's a secret door. Some sort of incantation needed to open it, or potion or something." He began rubbing the surface, which seemed oddly smooth. He banged a palm on it, only to pull it away rubbing it. "Pretty solid," he confirmed.

"James, let's head back," Joseph said, sounding uncertain. "This idea was great and all in theory, but if the Marauders themselves didn't venture down here, maybe we shouldn't either. Besides, if that is the door, it's probably sealed with all sorts of spells that third years can't undo."

"Alright," he resigned. James looked dejected, and Rose felt a bit sorry for him. They'd all be curious about the dungeon, but he had been the most and had clearly done some homework before their escapade. Still, she was only too happy to oblige as they slowly trudged up the steps, starting the long ascent upwards. Rose began to curse the whole venture, if only for her thighs' sakes. _Hey, on the bright side, at least you'll lose that bit of extra weight you've put on since you arrived!_

A mere five minutes into the climb, the group stopped once more. "Oh no," she heard James murmur from the front. "This _cannot_ be happening."

"What's wrong?" she whispered, trying to push her way past them to see. The light of her wand was blocked by the two tall boys in front of her. They were no where near the top; what could possibly be holding them up this time? Rose managed to wedge herself between James and Joe in the rather narrow corridor and finally saw what had made them stop.

Before the four students and blocking the stairway was another stone wall.

* * *

**Hehehe, end chapter 6!**

**What's that sizzling noise I hear? Oh my, its the ignition of the main non-romance plot! The coals were set in previous chapters, now I'm lighting 'em!**

A few notes: first, I am terribly sorry for taking a week and a half to finally update! Especially if I scared anyone into thinking I'd dropped this fic. Two main problems occurred, one being a lot of school work and second was lack of inspiration/motivation. Normally I have a good idea of what will go down each chapter before I sit down to write it; this time I knew a vague idea of the start and a detailed end, so the main wait stemmed from trying to get that first part written. Again, sorry if that section seemed a little forced. To make up for your wait, this chapter is extra long (1k over the usual)!

Second, as already mentioned, this is the real beginning of the plot. The chapters up until now have mostly been to properly set the scene, characters, and relationships before diving into the heavier stuff. So buckled up- the next chapter is going to get intense and have lasting consequences.

Last note, someone commented that Teddy would be too old to go to Hogwarts at Rose's year. My apologies; when I wrote that last chapter it was late at night, my internet was down (ergh parents) and it'd been a year or so since I last read the books, so I tried to go off memory and thought that the epilogue took place at 17 years later rather than 19. Oops. Hence the discrepancy in age. Sorry!

**Don't forget to review!**

**P.S: Were those last couple of paragraphs coming off as creepy? Cause that was my goal. **


	7. The Blackwell

**This chapter is quite large (nearly 6k versus my usual 4k). But splitting it into two didn't seem right. So enjoy! Beware, it gets...interesting.  
It's also a bit dialogue heavy.  
**

**NOTE: I wanted to get this posted before my internet turned off for the night, so I only had time for a light skim. Sorry in advance for any typos! I'll go over it again later and do a more in-depth analysis. **

* * *

Rose felt dread.

Dread, fear, alarm, and a skyrocketing heartbeat caused her to sway slightly on her feet, nearly toppling backwards down the stairs_. _The stairs they had just come up from a dead end. How could it be possible to find another when turning back? Did they some how turn down another passage by accident, simply not noticing it in the dark? No, even in the deep shadows of the dungeons, Rose was certain it would have been impossible for them to simply not notice the stairwell split. Was this some sort of horrible prank by James? A quick glance at her cousin's face affirmed that he was feeling as aghast as she was.

Joseph ran his hands up and down the wall. "This doesn't make any sense!" he muttered calmly, though Rose detected a fear behind his voice. She appreciated him trying to defuse the panic setting in. He rapped his knuckle on it. "How can a solid wall just..._appear?_"

"We _are_ in a magical school," Malfoy reminded them.

"Fair point. A suppose a better question would be _why?_"

James slowly sunk to the floor. "This is all my fault!" he moaned, burying his head into his hands. "We're going to die trapped deep underground by magical walls, and it's all my fault!"

"Get a hold of yourself," Rose snapped. "Now's not the time for hysterics. While it may have been your idea to come down here initially, we all did it of our own free will." She reached out to feel the blockage; it was too smooth to be natural and nearly flat. But more extraordinary was how icy it was to the touch, far colder than she instinctively knew it should be, even so deep underground. "It's freezing," she murmured aloud to herself.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "It's a mite bit chilly, but I'd say freezing would be a bit far."

"Not the air, you clodhoft, the wall! It's too cold to be natural." Rose narrowed her eyes, tilting her head slightly as she studied it. "We should try a few spells," she suggested. "There's no harm in trying."

The four of them shuffled back a half-dozen steps, putting some distance between them and the wall. Joe whipped out his blackthorn wand, staring intently at the obstacle before them. "_Reducto_!"

The spell should have reduced the wall to fine dust on impact. Instead, the wall pulsed a faint blue for a moment.

"I...I think it absorbed it," Joe stuttered.

Rose bit her bottom lip. Her idea seemed a bit on the obvious side, but there was no harm it trying. "_Alohomora!"_

Nothing happened. She shrugged weakly at James's raised eyebrow. "It was worth a try."

For the next five minutes, the continued to fire a multiple of various spells and curses at the stubborn blockage to no avail. Either they had no effect or were quickly absorbed in the eerie blue glow. The students' morale was dropping with every failed attempt. James had given up completely, sitting on a step to one side while the others kept up the assault. Rose was about ready to abandon the futile effort as well when Malfoy, growing angrier and more desperate, aggressively pointed his wand and shouted "_Bombarda!"_

A gray jet of light shot from the end of his wand. However, instead of absorbing the spell, the wall deflected it, causing it to ricochet down the stairwell and impact on the masonry behind their heads. It exploded, causing stone dust and small debris to shower them. Rose coughed through the filth, laying low until the sound and dust settled. When the view cleared it revealed a gaping hole in the wall, revealing the rough bedrock behind it.

James stood up, unsuccessfully trying to brush off the stone dust coating him. "Brilliant idea, genius," he sneered mockingly at Malfoy. "Let's just bring the whole roof down while we're at it."

"How was I suppose to know it would rebound that time?" the blond spat back, standing as tall as he could- which was half a head shorter than James. "It never did it before!"

"At least Malfoy was _trying_," Rose agreed. "All _you_ did was sit on your arse!"

"I've merely accepted the fact that this is hopeless," James snapped. "Our best bet is to wait until morning. Maybe when they'll notice us missing, the teachers will somehow figure out we're down here."

The red-head scoffed, "_Somehow, maybe, if!_ I'm not waiting around for a hope of rescue."

"Then what do you suggest we do, Princess?" he bit back. "Obviously this is a heavily magically fortified barricade. Even the strongest spells we know aren't taking a chip off it."

Rose thought about it for a moment. Clearly, as James pointed out, curses and spells flung haphazardly around the place weren't doing much; they could end up injuring or killing themselves in the process- their recent close call was proof of that. Surely there was some way out of their underground prison? Maybe it was something less obvious than throwing explosives at a wall. "There must be another way out," she muttered.

Malfoy sighed heavily, sitting on a partially-destroyed step. "Like what? This is the way we came. I didn't notice any other entrances, did you?"

His words made something click in Rose's head. "Maybe we aren't suppose to look for entrances. Maybe we're looking for exits."

"Explain?"

"We're trying- or were trying- to find a sealed dungeon, correct? And it stands to reason it's sealed for a reason. It's probably dangerous. This could just be security. Whoever set this up wants to trick us into doubling back from our original mission."

"I think they'd succeeded," Joe muttered.

"What if we doubled back _again_?" Rose continued, ignoring the interruption. "What if because the wall's here now, the other one is gone?"

Malfoy looked like he was about to argue, but his expression turned thoughtful and gave a slight nod. "Could be possible. Sounds like something this whacked-out place would do."

"Wouldn't that take us deeper, though?" Joseph intervened.

He sounded hesitant, and Rose couldn't blame him. "Yes. But at the same time, it's better than waiting around here. Maybe the answer to getting out is going through."

The trio glanced at James, the unofficial leader of the company. He sighed and ran fingers through his dusty hair. "Alright," he finally agreed. "Worth looking."

"I'm not!" Joe said stubbornly, folding his arms across his chest. "I know I wholeheartedly went along with James when we first devised this plan. But now that I've seen this place, with its traps and fake walls, I doubt going further is the best plan. It could be suicide."

"Fine!" James snapped, "We'll just leave you here, alone in the dark, while you wait for help to come- which could be days. Something tells me Hogwarts won't make it easy for any rescuers. Come on, I'm tired of waiting around." He marched down the stairs, lighting his wand once more with a muttered_ lumos. _Rose shot Joe one more look before she and Malfoy hurried after her cousin, who had already disappeared around the bend.

It hadn't even been thirty seconds before they heard the rapid footfalls and heavy breathing of someone behind them. Rose whirled around in fear, but quickly relaxed when she recognized the dusty third-year. "Alright, alright!" Joe aceded, "I'll come with you. There's no bloody way in hell I'm waiting around in the dark in a magical dungeon. Safety in numbers, right?"

James smirked. "Knew you'd come around."

The group continued their descent once more. Malfoy let out a muffled curse when he missed a step, but otherwise no words were spoken between the students. About five minutes in, James halted. "This is where the wall was before," he whispered.

"How can you tell?" Malfoy asked.

"See that large stone in the wall, with the lump of quartz protruding? I recognize it."

Goosebumps erupted on Rose's arms. So she had been right. The sense of deep unease that she had been trying to bury since they first encounter with the magical barricade returned in full force,

"Looks like you were right, cousin," James whispered in her ear.

"Are we sure we want to keep going?"

"No other way, is there?" he huffed in response, this time loud enough for them all to hear. "As I see it, Hogwarts wants us to keep going. It's ensnared us in its little trap, and now it's pushing us forward. I bet if we went back, we'd find the wall sooner than we did before. It's not going to let us leave by the way we came."

"Joy," the blond muttered, "An ancient magical castle wants us dead."

"I don't know what it wants," James admitted. "The whole situation is odd. Why _does_ Hogwarts want us to press further? Is this some sort of elaborate security system?"

Realization dawned on Rose. "It's a thief's net."

"What?"

"A thief's net. It's insurance in the form of a ambuscade," she explained. "Sort of like a security system, I guess, but more like a challenge to whoever would be brave enough to come down here. It ensures that they must remain dedicated to their goal."

Malfoy snorted. "What good would that do?"

"You know those traps that exterminators use when a squirrel or something gets in a house attic?" She bit her lip at his shake of head. _Purebloods! They need to get out more._ "They put it over the entrance, and it's designed so that the pest can go in but not back out. Then, sooner or later, their hunger drives them towards the bait and eventually the cage. I think that's what this is like. It's allowing us in, but not out."

"We established that already," James pointed out, sounding irritated. He began slowly climbing down the stairs, and after brief hesitation, the others followed.

"Not quite. Don't you find it off that the way down was blocked first, then the way back up? Whoever set that up wanted to make sure we knew that the way back was blocked. I bet if we had tried to go back sooner we would have found the wall earlier."

Joe scratched his head, sending a shower of dust on his face. "But why?"

Rose shrugged. "It's like I said, exterminators use one-way traps to catch the pest. We now have no choice but to continue. Think about it! Obviously something extremely important is hidden down here- or more like locked away. We're being thought of as the equivalent of treasure hunters breaking into the pyramid. No doubt deadly traps await us. Now we face pressing forward or dying down here. The one-way entrance makes sure we don't come down here at intervals, slowly discerning the pitfalls one at a time. We've thrown in our lot as 'robbers'; we have to work through this all at once."

As if fate decided to punctuate her words with a dramatic flair, the group turned the corner to find the staircase had ended. They face a large, cavernous room, the floor about twelve feet [3.5 m] below the landing they stood on. The only source of light came from a single chandelier in the center of the ceiling, its oxidized brass chain disappearing upwards into the shadows. High up on the walls were stain-glass windows, though they only looked out onto black bedrock.

Her eyes told her the room was empty, devoid of objects or obstacles, but Rose's intellect warned of unforeseen danger. Something was very wrong about the room. Something obvious she hadn't yet picked up on.

Before anyone could saying anything, James turned and started down the ladder before them. "What are you doing?!" Joe hissed at his friend, "What if the room is booby-trapped?"

"Then I'll die," he said flatly. "We won't know until we try."

The third-year paused on the final rung, reaching out with one foot to tentatively touch the stone floor. Nothing happened. He walked out a few paces into the room. Still nothing. "I think you can come down," he said warily. "Reason is dictating that if something were to happen, it would have by now."

Cautiously, they each descended the ladder one at the time. Rose dropped the last few rungs onto the floor- it was ordinary gray stone. Nothing seemed particularly special about it. She reached out to touch is at the same time Malfoy dropped behind her. "Examining the floor now?" he asked; he sounded more exasperated at the thought than he was mocking her actions. "And why are there windows underground?"

The room was about twice as long as the Great Hall, and three times as wide. James stood at the center, looking up. "Check out this chandelier," he called.

Closer inspection revealed it to be grotesque. Intricately cared details on the wide-rim of brass depicted gory war scenes, a dog eating a young child, two demons prancing on the backs of the dead. The creator put special attention into the eyes of each being, which were wide and bulging on the embossed metal. However, their were two things that caught Rose's attention: the fact that the lower half seemed to be highly polished, despite the tarnished upper rim and chain, and that it was only about three feet above her head. Two exceptionally odd features.

That's when she noticed one other thing, too, as she cast a quick glance around. "Where's the way out?"

Malfoy gave a started gasp behind her. "The way we came has vanished!"

James sat down heavily on the cold floor. "Great," he said sarcastically. "So once again, we're trapped."

"And our only clue is a weird-ass chandelier."

Okay, clearly this was some sort of puzzle. What was the point in luring people down into a deep dungeon only to lock them in a room? There had to be some sort of magic switch or key that revealed a hidden door. "This _must_ have something to do with it," she murmured, craning her neck to gaze at the abnormality above her. Hesitantly, she reached out with one hand to touch one of the images on the lower rim, an embossed figure with two swords protruding from the elbows instead of arms, depicted to be carving up a young woman.

The moment her fingers made contact with the metal, the metal figure turned blue and the metal became hot to the touch. Rose pulled away immediately as if burned. "Guys!" she shouted as blue smoke erupted from the center of the chandelier, "Get over here!"

As James scrambled to his feet and Joe came dashing over from where he had been unsuccessfully trying to reach the high windows, the smoke poured to the floor in a curling cloud of blue mist. Gradually a figure began to take shape. Two short legs, a long torso, with arms ending at the elbows and replaced with blades; a diamond shaped head formed on top of broad shoulders. Having completely taken corporeal body, the being let out a roar.

Rose felt frozen with shock. "What the hell?!" she shrieked aloud. This was like a bad muggle horror movie! This was not what she had signed up for when she had gotten out of bed earlier that night.

Her scream caught the creature's immediate attention, and it dashed towards her in a strange gait. Rose fumbled with her wand, barely managing to flick it quick enough with the first spell that came to mind. "_Protego!"_

To her great relief and surprise, the creature rebounded backwards as it it had hit a solid wall. It took her a few seconds to understand why- the protection spell was meant to reflect jinxes and curses; the monster must have been considered some sort of spell in order for the shield to work.

With a deep growl sounding akin to gravel on a metal slide, the creature instead turned to the nearest person: James. Luckily, he was more prepared than Rose had been. "_Bombarda Maxima_!" he shouted.

The figure was flung backwards as the spell hit it directly in the chest. Blue smoke emerged from the new wound, and the body began to fold inwards as if melting from the inside. The smoke slowly coiled its way through the air, returning once more to the center of the chandelier. Rose heard a faint click, and the fat candle above the creature's embossed image sunk a few inches. A grinding noise brought the four students' attention to the far side of the room. A section of the wall had lowered, revealing a new recess.

"That was terrifying," Joe commented dryly.

Rose fiddled with her wand. "What _was_ it?"

James had sufficiently recovered from shock enough to stand up and inspect the brass overhanging their heads. "That image you touched on the chandelier took some sort of physical form. What's it suppose to mean? I mean, it wasn't too hard to defeat."

Rose paused her fiddling, looking thoughtfully upwards. "Maybe that's the key," she murmured aloud to herself. "We had to defeat that...that thing to find the door."

"But that's not a door it revealed," Malfoy pointed out, glancing at the new recess. "It's just some sort of revealed niche."

The red-head slowly walked around the circumference of the chandelier. "So maybe it was only part of the key. See three three fat candles? One is above that monster James destroyed. When the smoke returned, the candle lowered in its socket and then the recess was revealed." She bit her lip, studying the other two candles. "Beneath each is a particularly detailed and image larger than the rest on the polished rim. Perhaps we have to fight each of the three to access the door."

Malfoy titled his head. "So they're like some form of guardian, then?"

"Must be." Rose peered at one of the big images; it showed a large snake coiling around a man's head. "Should we give it a try?"

Her cousin appeared hesitate. "I don't suppose there's many other likely ways through this, huh? Sure, give it a go. As I said, that last one wasn't too hard once we overcame shock."

"Hope none of you are afraid of snakes," she murmured, tapping the image with one finger. As before it glowed blue and felt instantly hot to the touch, and blue smoke spiraled out onto the floor. This time, instead of forming a humanoid figure, a familiar reptilian was chosen. However, it became clear this was no ordinary snake: for one, it was far oversize, nearly as thick as Rose's head; and two, its pupils were horizontal and rectangular, with bright, luminescent blue scales. Instead of immediately attacking like the former figure, the snake merely coiled around itself.

"Interessssting," it hissed slowly, "For ssstudentssss for me."

James wasted no time. "_Reducto!"_ he cried.

Unfortunately, the spell bounced off an unseen shield around the snake, ricocheting upwards. The lack of following noise told Rose that the ceiling must have absorbed it. _Now we know that we can't blast out way out,_ she thought.

"Preciousss of you," the snake whispered. "But thatssss not how thisssss workssss."

"How _what_ works?" Malfoy spat back.

The blue reptile swung its head towards him. "But riddlessss of courssse!"

"Riddles?" Rose echoed. "So, what, we have to guess whatever riddle you have for us and we unlock the next part of the door?"

"Not quite," it correctly, voice reminding her of silk over ice. "I am wissssdom itsssself. Tell me a riddle I cannot sssssolve, and you win."

Oh. So not quite like the sphinx she had in mind from old tales. "Do we each get a chance?"

"A chansssse for each of thisss brave delegation."

"And if we fail?"

"Then I get to sssstrangle you!"

The group huddled together, out of earshot of the eerie snake. "Alright, team," James growled, "We're going to have to dig deep into our memories to find something to befuddle that scaled worm. Think carefully before you speak, since we each get only one chance. Use it wisely. I don't like the look of that protective charm around it, and it could end pretty badly."

Rose thought those last words were an understatement.

Joe went first, slowly approaching the serpent. "What grows bigger the more you take from it?"

"Ssssilly boy," it hissed scornfully, "Isss that the besssst you you can do? A hole!"

The red-head had to admit it was a pretty easy riddle. So much for brilliant Joe. Now they were down to three, and Rose didn't have too high of hopes for their chances.

"Okay," James said, stepping forward a few minutes later, "I've got one. If I drink, I die. If I eat, I am fine. What am I?"

This time the stoic serpent took longer to respond. It tapped its chin on its coiled length a few times, as if a habit of thought. Rose began to hope that James had succeeded, but her hope was crushed when it responded. "Fire. Next pleasssse?"

Malfoy seemed pretty deep in thought, pacing a few yards away, seeming to have no intention of taking his chance next. Joe and James were out, so Rose supposed she was next in line. _Keep calm Rose. Just say your riddle. It's only the end of your life if it's too easy._ She took a deep breath before approaching the snake. "Um...okay..." Facing the strange eyes of the snake, she suddenly lost all confidence in her riddle. It was too simple. Too childish. A joke she had heard in her house as a kid. But she could think of nothing else. "If a blue house is made out of blue bricks, a yellow house is made out of yellow bricks and a pink house is made out of pink bricks, what is a green house made of?"

The snake tilted its head slightly as if studying her. Rose felt her clenched hands grow sweaty.

"Glasssss," it finally answered.

Rose felt deflated. She knew it had been too easy! And yet, it was the hardest one she could think of. She struggled not to bury her head into her hands and weep at her failure. Now their fate rested in the hands of Malfoy.

The blond in question turned around, looking anxious. "Guess it's my turn now," he guessed, taking slow steps towards the snake. "Very well. Answer me this: how much is a dollar-two-ninety-eight worth?"

James frowned from where he stood next to his cousin. "What?" he muttered aloud.

Clearly the snake felt the same way. "Thisss riddle makessss no ssssenssse!" it hissed angrily.

"Sure it does," he argued. "I'll ask again: how much is a dollar-two-ninety-eight worth?"

The formerly calm serpent began twitching uncertainly. "Isss that...no...two dollarsssss and ninety-eight ssssents? No, no, two one dollarssss and ninety-eight ssssents!"

"Is that your final answer?"

"Yessss, yessss!"

Malfoy visibly sagged with relief. "Neither. The amount doesn't exist- there is no such thing, it's the equivalent of a made up number. Nice playing!"

The snake burst into smoke, which slowly returned to the chandelier. The second candle sunk with a click, and another section of the wall in the recess lowerered to deepen the opening.

"Nice job, blondie!" James praised, slapping the younger boy on the shoulder. "Nearly thought we were a gonner there. Ha! As if. Clearly these guardians are no match for us.

Rose wiped the sweat from her brow. "Let's just move onto the next one and get this over wish," she suggested, circling to the other side of the chandelier. The remaining of the three large images showed an armored knight, sword half-sunk in the fallen body of some terrible creature. Soon the smoke was swirling once more, and the figure itself appeared before them. Its armor was bright, as if recently polished, and he held a broadsword loosely in one gauntlet-covered hand. James, Joe, and Malfoy all raised their wands as if to cast a curse.

"Halt!" a deep voice called from behind the visor. "Lower those cursed wands of yours! I shall not harm you."

"Says who?" Rose challenged. "The word of a spell?"

"I am not just a spell," it answered, its sword still lowered in a non-threatening position. "I am Sir Casceneon. I, too, am a guardian, but am not here to harm you."

"Come again?"

"My mission is merely to warn those who wish to proceed in their quest. I have guarded the entrance for centuries, trying to dissuade each comer that death would be better than what awaits beyond this room. None so far have heeded me, preferring to 'take their chances', as they put it."

Rose tilted her head in question. "How many have come before us?"

"Not many. A young woman was first to break the seal on this forgotten chamber. A middle-aged man, next, and later an elderly but powerful wizard. The last before you four was an elderly witch. I am certain more have tried but did not make it past the first two guardians. Believe my words, it is not worth the promises to go forward."

Malfoy frowned. "Promises?"

"Look," James cut in, sounding exasperated, "We don't care about whatever treasure or whatever is 'beyond'. We only want to get out of here. There's no other exit. Is there a way out on the other side of the door?"

"Yes," the ghostly knight confirmed. "But-"

"Good enough for me. Unlock it so we can be on our way."

The knight sheathed his sword. "Very well. As you wish. But I tell you now, if you live at all, you will live to regret." With those ominous words, the knight melted into the blue smoke and vanished. With a click, the third and final candle lowered; across the room, the remaining panel, revealing three steps leading up to an iron door.

The four crossed the room in silence, the only sound the quick patter of their gait. Without pausing, James shoved open the iron door.

Once they had each crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind them with finality. The new room was long and slim, with black marble tiles as the floor. A narrow trench of dark and oily water ran on either side. Wall-mounted braziers marked every five feet, providing lights with an eerie glow of blue fire. The very end of the room rounded into a circle, and, on the far side, was a door.

"Come on," James muttered after a few seconds. His words echoed unnaturally.

With every step she took, Rose felt herself grow colder. Was it just her, or was the temperature plummeting in the room? The blue glow of the braziers caused light to dance on the surface of the sludgy water. The ceiling, a great deal lower than it had been in the previous chamber, was impossibly black, as if it were absorbing light. Rose couldn't tell what kind of material it might have been. Some sort of stone, perhaps? The most unnerving thing about the room was the lack of sound. Except for the soft breathing of her companions, the red-head could hear nothing- no crackle of fire, or quiet lap of water.

They were about half-way to the circular end of the room when they all froze.

Cold dread filled every bone is Rose's body. She willed herself to move, to twitch a finger, to move her mouth and call out to her friends, but her body would not respond. It was as if she had lost all control over her body, suspended in the motion of taking a step. Only her eyes could move, rolling to glance at the others; it seemed as if they too were unexpectedly petrified.

From the center of the circular end of the room came movement. For the first time, Rose noticed a hole in the middle- a truly black hole, as if made out of the shadows themselves. Rose felt the hairs on the nape of her neck stand straight as someone, _something_, began to slowly climb out. It was not quite corporeal, seeming to be made of dense black fog, but unlike the guardians, it did not take on a solid form. It seemed human in figure, judging by the arm-like shapes hauling the body out of the hole. A low moan was uttered from its direction.

_Visitors to my domain_, a silky voice whispered in Rose's mind. _Lovely a surprise, this is._

The young gryffindor tried to run or speak in response, but still her body would not cooperate.

_What brings you to this place? I see. A foolhardy plan of simpletons got awry. How amusing. Rose Marie Weasely, allow me to formally welcome you to the Blackwell. My, my, but you are a talented witch, aren't you?_

Rose tried to shut down her mind, tried to stop the chilling entity from reading her mind. The body was now almost completely out of the hole she now assumed was called the Blackwell.

_Very good, excellent deductions. Unfortunately, few beings could shut me out even if they exerted their will. Now, dear Rose, you seem like a smart young woman. What made you believe any of this venture was a good idea? I see it now; you knew from the beginning it was foolish, but your pride got in the way. What kind of a Gryffindor, after all, turns down adventure? You wish to further prove how you fit into your house. One of your comrades has similar motives, yet does not realize it. You see, Rose, I can read minds, souls, and hearts of mankind. I can be omnipotent, my mind speaking with all four of you at once at my own ease. I am arguably the most powerful of enteties you will ever have the pleasure of meeting._

_Or displeasure_, Rose thought to herself.

_Now now, let's not be rude. You have much potential. Unfortunately, you and others are far too busy worried about expectations to focus on it. Your mother was the brightest witch of her age, and others expected you to be even more brilliant. Imagine everyone's shock when your ingenious was shunted into the house for the arrogant rather than Ravenclaw, house of the cleverest witches and wizards! The disappointment you must have felt. How your professors wondered what may have been wrong about the world's prediction of your mind._

_You, of course, most likely have not noticed it until now, but it has hovered in your subconscious since you began your education. You are no more brilliant than the average student; less so, even. You receive mediocre grades and are terrified to tell your parents this. You are terrified that the world no longer thinks you have inherited your mother's talent. Even more so, you are terrified that you will never live up to their name._

The figure was now half-way to Rose, its figure becoming more defined as it moved. It seemed only capable of slow, deliberate steps, reaching out in front to reveal gray, translucent hands.

_I can help you. I am potent, ancient power, faded from the knowledge of most of wizardkind. I can teach you, educate you. Let us show the world they are wrong. With my teaching, you can become _greater _than your parents. You could become the brightest witch in History. No more would people whisper about Rose Weasely, the girl who lacked her mother's wit and her father's bravery, the girl who disappointment society, the girl who let down her legacy. _

Rose's mind was hazy. Her thoughts became distorted, overwhelmed by a sudden, intense lust for power. She wanted to destroy those who had ever doubted her intellect. She could become powerful, more powerful than the great Harry Potter, greater than Voldemort or Dumbledore ever was. She could be unstoppable!

_Let me help you, Rose Weasely, to become who you wish to be._

"No!"

The strangled cry cleared the haze of Rose's mind, her attention briefly shifting to the source of the voice. To her left, Malfoy had fallen to his knees, hands clamped to his ears as if trying to shut out the supernatural mind. He let out a blood-chilling shriek, fully snapping the red-head from her stupor. The black entity, whom still had no definite shape, was merely feet from her. To her horror, her own arms was reaching out to touch the Blackwell's oustretched one.

With an almighty wrench, as if he were pulling himself from a tight grasp, Malfoy arose and grabbed Rose's hand. "Rose! Get out of here!"

The blond yanking on her arm caused her to stumble, breaking the petrification that had enfolded her. Without a pause, Rose ran past the dark figure and straight for the door.

_It's not too late Rose,_ a voice cooed in her mind, _Come back. My deal still stands. I could make you great._

She didn't bother to respond. The hall seemed like it would never end, stretching on for miles. How long had she been running? A few minutes? Half an hour? Her mind felt distorted, and she could feel her legs tripping through the haze. Black was encroaching on her vision.

A quick glance back revealed Joe, James, and Malfoy running behind her- they must have been snapped out of it by Malfoy as well. But would they make it? The black figure was facing them, low moaning chants echoing around the room. Instinctively Rose knew that if they did not make it to the door, they would forever trapped inside.

The black had nearly taken her vision, and Rose felt consciousness beginning to slip. _Just a little further!_ She repeated to herself. Yet within the next step she stumbled and fell, falling face-first on the smooth marble floor. She could taste something metallic in her mouth, and her head pulsed with pain.

Two figures grabbed her arms and threw them around separate shoulders. "Hang on, Rose!" she dimly heard James calling.

The last thing Rose saw before consciousness faded was a yawning dark doorway, a feeling of weightlessness, and then nothing.

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**I feel like to say "a lot happened in this chapter" would be an understatement. Told 'ya the plot was igniting. ****There's a lot to take in, I know. From here on out, things are going to be way different for these kiddos. **

**Next chapter will be a time-skip to third year! In that time we'll get some of the blanks filled in (like what happened immediately falling this chapter) via patchy flashbacks to add some mystery. ;)**

**REVIEWS MAKE ME UPDATE FASTER. I swear it on my love for Scorose. **

**Hope you liked it! This chapter was fun to write. Let me know any critiques you may have (or praise)!**


	8. Arithmacy & Nosiness

**Hi! It's been almost a week again since an update, I know. School's picked up for me, and my mum's non-too-happy about me still being behind in math; as a result, she took my laptop. She doesn't know that I have our old iPad (with keyboard), so I can still write! It might just take me longer (and try to excuse typos, as I'm not use to these smaller and closely-spaced keys!). **

**I must also regret to inform you that chapter sizes will return to normal (4k) rather than my few recent large ones. **

**As mentioned at the end of last chapter, this one picks up at about mid-way through third year (more than a year and a half after the Blackwell event). After publishing last chapter, the lack of reviews and drop in follows made me think that people didn't like where the story was headed. Try to stick around a little longer, please! I apologize if the last update was disappointing. Hopefully I can make it up to you with this one.**

**Enjoy!**

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**CHAPTER 8**

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It was two weeks before the needed break of Christmas. First and second years chatted amiably among themselves, discussing the upcoming holiday in terms of gifts, trips, and expectations. Third years and up, however, had no such time to idle. End of the semester exams started Monday, and consequently the library was constantly packed with students cramming in their final opportunities to study.

Scorpius hated the commotion exams brought at this time of year. Everywhere he went, whispered tips and quiet quizzing buzzed in his ears; more than once he tripped on one of the many Gryffindor study groups in the common room; even in his dorm, Salux droned to himself a repetition of facts as he read them.

It was driving Scorpius crazy. He was only mildly worried about most his subjects, having kept up with them well during the year, but still wanted to get some amount of studying in before the tests. He was mostly anxious about Arithmacy. It had been his father's best subject, and his mother had done exceedingly well in it- two driving factors that had made him sign up for the elective at the beginning of the year. Yet from day one, he had been hopelessly lost in the class. Practically every theorem, postulate, and equation had gone right over his head. He had consistently done poorly on quizzes and essays. As the day of the exam loomed closer, the Malfoy grew increasingly more panicked about it; what little studying he had managed to fit in had been in a less than ideal, noisy location, and nothing had stuck. Hence his need for somewhere quiet.

So when Scorpius couldn't sleep once again on Sunday night, he swung his legs out of bed. Ignoring the muted snores of Vincent and mumbling dreamtalk of Albus, he quietly slipped out of the dorm and descended the stairwell to the common room.

As he had hoped, it was completely abandoned. A quick glance at the elaborate grandfather clock told him why: it was two o'clock in the morning. Scorpius was mildly surprised that there weren't still some stragglers intent on studying late into the night (the charms exam was tomorrow). He made his way over to an empty desk, glad that he could finally have some quiet time to study.

For the next hour he read in frustrated silence, the only noise to distract him being the crackle of the ever-burning Gryffindor fireplace. The quiet did help- the equations were beginning to stick and he was now able to recite them with ease. The frustration was caused by his lack of understanding the concepts. What good were equations if he didn't even know what numbers to plug in, or what the answer even meant? As the night wore on, his irritation only increased.

At about three-thirty, the blond was startled by a voice behind him. "What are you doing up so late?"

Scorpius turned, expecting some prefect leaving for their shift of the rounds, but his exasperation turned to surprise at the curly-red head. He gestured towards the several books spread on the desk. "Studying," he said curtly.

Rose approached the table, peering at the assembled materials. She had a night robe on despite the warmth of the common room. "Arithmacy?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Interesting. Most of our year is studying for tomorrow's Charms exam."

"I know. But I'm not a fraction as worried about Charms as I am about...this." The blond waved his hands at the Arithmacy books.

"Why study now?"

"Too loud any other time. Or place." Scorpius didn't meet her gaze, wondering if he should elaborate. This was Rose, after all; he'd been to hell with her (quite literally), and of everyone he knew, she was most likely to understand. "And I couldn't sleep. Had a nightmare."

The red-head's curious expression turned sympathetic. "Sorry to hear that."

"It's okay." He regretted having brought it up, the memory of waking up in a cold sweat unpleasant. "Why are you up?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Honestly? My room mate snores like a motorboat. What with the exam tomorrow morning, I decided I might try sleeping on one of the couches tonight to at least attempt getting some shut-eye."

For the first time Scorpius noticed the rolled quilt clutched in her hands. "Oh. Well, don't let me stop you."

Rose gave a nod to acknowledge him and moved off towards the fireplace. As he turned his attention back to the information in front of him, he could hear her shuffling around and hastily putting together a makeshift bed on one of the couches. Reading the explanation for the spell speed postulate still made no sense the fifth time he read it. Scorpius couldn't help heaving a heavy sigh, leaning back in the chair and drawing a hand over his face. Though wide-awake physically, his mind was beginning to melt with the incomprehensible subject at hand.

"Need help?"

Scorpius jumped for the second time that night, scowling that Rose had managed to sneak up on him twice. "I'm fine."

"Look, Malfoy," she sighed, half with annoyance, half in amusement, "I know you've got a delicate male ego and all, but it's clear that you're struggling. I could practically hear your frustration from the couch."

"'_Delicate male ego'_? Thanks."

"You know I'm joking. Mostly. Don't be stubborn."

"Stubborn? That's kind of rich, coming from a Weasely."

"Do you want help or not?"

Scorpius considered the offer for a moment before giving in. At this point in the night, he didn't care where the help came from. Besides, nobody was around to witness his shame of admitting his need for assistance. "Fine. It's this postulate here. All I know is that it's got something to do with spell speed."

Rose took one look at it before allowing a small smile to herself. "Oh, that's pretty easy once you know it. The book words it a little awkwardly. Just multiply the wand length by the trajectory squared and divide by the mongulative."

"The what?"

"The degree of angle the witch or wizard holds the wand."

"How the bloody hell am I suppose to know that?"

Rose frowned. "By the Gitrovive method."

"Excuse me?"

"You know, the demarative by Vorcaduro's number."

"Who?"

The red-head's brow furrowed further, and she leaned back from her position over the book. "Have you been paying any attention in Arithmacy?"

"Of course! I've been taking notes and everything."

"Malfoy, the first thing Professor Jov taught us was demaratives."

He hesitated for a minute, wracking his brains for the memory of his first class. "Um, was that that thing with the, uh...wand wood density?"

"No, that's the aborem method," she sighed in response, folding her arms across her chest. "The demarative is the known fluctuation in potency of different cores. Like how unicorn hair tends to be more powerful with jinxes than charms, or how dragon heartstring is 0.56% more effective at curses than phoenix feather." Rose looked hesitant at Scorpius's blank expression. "Are you...are you doing okay with arithmacy?"

"I'm f-" He began, then sighed heavily. He laid his forehead on the book. "Screw it. Yeah, I suck at it, to put it mildly."

"Have you talked to Professor Jov about it?"

"Yep. When I still didn't understand everything after her explanations- you know, I don't think she ever speaks anything than less than top speed- she suggested that I might drop the class."

Rose tilted her hear in question. "Why don't you?"

The blond snapped his head up. "No! I can't."

"Why not?"

_Talk about nosy_, he thought to himself. "I just can't."

Rose pursed her lips, staring at the wall above Scorpius's head and looking thoughtful. After a moment she spoke. "Alright. Meet me by that ancient oak tree at the lakeshore tomorrow at our free period after lunch. Bring your books."

Scorpius blinked owlishly, confused by the unexpected order. "Why?" he demanded stupidly.

"I'm going to help you study for Arithmacy," she announced, as if she had just agreed to feed an alligator by hand. "You're Nick's mate, and I'm not about to let his friend fail a subject if I could have helped him."

"But you don't even like me!" he protested, hastily standing from his chair. He hated the thought of being taught by the Weasley girl, especially if it was only due to their mutual friendship.

"Maybe so. Tell you what- I help you with your Arithmacy, and in return you help me with potions. I'm not terrible at the subject, but not nearly as good as I'd like," she admitted sheepishly.

"Who says I agree to this proposition?"

"Do you?" she prompted.

Scorpius considered the offer. True, there were other people he'd rather spend his free period with. And he still didn't like the idea of being taught by a Weasley. But the idea of students helping each other with class and studying was nothing new, and he could see the benefit that could be gained. Scorpius imagined his father's glowing praise when they received his Outstanding report card, unscarred by a Poor Arithmacy grace. "Okay," he finally agreed. "I guess I can meet you there after lunch."

Rose smiled in response. "Great. You better get some sleep, then. No point staying up all night if you can't understand the material yet, and whether or not you're prepared for the Charms exam tomorrow, you'll do better on sleep. As will I. Goodnight."

As Rose made her way to her makeshift couch-bed, Scorpius retreated from the common room. He slipped back into his dorm without waking his roommates; Vincent was still snoring softly, although Albus had ceased his sleep talking. The blond slipped between his sheets, returning his head to the dent he had left in his pillow earlier.

Despite the drain of mental energy from studying and the exhaustion Scorpius felt, he knew that he wasn't likely to get much rest.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

The afternoon was warm for early winter, the sunshine out for the first time in days. Scorpius sat, as promised, beneath the ancient oak tree by the lakeshore. It was a bit chilly outside, but he supposed it was an added factor in keeping away the bustle of students.

As he had predicted, the Charms exam was a breeze. It was one of his best subjects. And despite his growing apprehension of Arithmacy, he was fairly confident that his other subjects only needed a light skimming. So as he sat beneath the old tree awaiting the Weasley girl, he was content enough to use the brief period of peace to flip through his History of Magic textbook.

She was late. Their free period started five minutes ago, and he knew she had been at lunch for over an hour, having sat only a little further down the table with Nick. The Ravenclaw was brilliant and had offered many times to help his friend with Arithmacy, but they rarely found the time to meet up. It didn't help that they were in different houses. Meal times weren't exactly the most conductive atmosphere for studying, and although Scorpius knew Nick to be a genius, he wasn't so great at explaining things (of course, he didn't tell Nick this).

That didn't mean he wasn't grateful for his friend. Over the last year and a half, Scorpius and the Scot had only grown closer. Their friendship had strengthened greatly after...the mishap. Nick became the only person he had confided in about what had happened that night- and what had happened since then.

Before Scorpius could reminisce about such dark memories, Rose can bounding down the slope, curly hair bouncing behind her. Books were clutched in her arms. "Sorry I'm late!" she panted. "Syla wouldn't shut up about her newly-signed muggle book."

Scorpius barely knew who Syla was, only that she was a Gryffindor in the same year. He closed his history text. "Can we start, then? I'm starting to get restless just thinking about Arithmacy."

Rose was soon settled. They began with Arithmacy first, the red-head slowly dissecting each equation and theorem for him. Scorpius was totally embarrassed when he realized that he had practically understood none of the subject since he had first started taking it. To his credit, however, once Rose began explaining concepts in simpler terms, he caught on quickly. Soon he was able to grasp the basics, leading to a better understanding of the newer equations the class had been working on.

"You're good at explaining stuff," he realized aloud.

She only shrugged in response. "Thanks. If only I was half as good at the work itself..."

"What do you mean? You seem plenty smart to me," he said truthfully.

Rose shook her head. "Apparently not smart enough to be a Ravenclaw," she murmured.

Scorpius wasn't sure he was meant to hear her, but he was surprised by her words nonetheless. "Says who?" he asked, aware of awkwardness of the conversation. He doubted the red-head expected such a personally intrusive question.

But Rose didn't seem to mind. She hugged her knees to her. "Nobody in particular. It's just sort of a general consensus. Everyone expected me to inherit my mother's wit and smarts since I was little. Imagine people's shock to find out I wasn't, well, as clever as they thought."

Scorpius frowned at this. From what he'd seen, heard, and experienced of Rose, he wouldn't have pegged her as an insecure person. Yet here she was, opening up to a practical stranger. "So people think you less smart because you aren't in Ravenclaw?"

"Yep."

"That's stupid!" he exclaimed, the sudden raise of volume causing Rose to flinch. He lowered his voice a few notches. "So the only smart people are Ravenclaws?"

"I didn't say that!" she protested. "I just meant that I- I mean people- don't think me smart enough to be one."

"Wasn't your mum a Gryffindor, though?" the blonde pointed out. "She's called the brightest witch of her age, yet she wasn't a Ravenclaw."

"That's true..."

"And look at me. I've got great grades, and I'm a Gryffindor like you." Scorpius knew he was sounding like he was bragging, though that wasn't his intention. "Look," he sighed, mirroring Rose's knee-hugging posture, "Just because society expects you to be one thing doesn't mean that's what you are. You don't have to conform to their standards."

The red-head looked at him thoughtfully, as if seeing him from a new light. "Sometimes I forget that everyone expected you to be a Slytherin," she said.

"Yeah, well..." Scorpius hadn't meant for the conversation to turn towards him. The last thing he wanted to be doing was a therapy session with a Weasely on a subject he tried not to think about. "I'm not, according to the Sorting Hat. My main point is that certain traits aren't limited to one house. You can have hard-working Gryffindors, cunning Hufflepuffs, witty Slytherins, and brave Ravenclaws. So why should all the smart people belong to only one house? Besides, Ravenclaws can be stuck-up know-it-alls."

Rose smiled at that. "For your sake, I won't tell Nick that."

"Much appreciated."

They lapsed into silence once more, flipping through their respective textbooks. Thanks to his new understanding on the subject, Scorpius was able to successfully complete an example problem with little difficulty.

"Hey Malfoy?" Rose asked after a few quiet minutes of studying.

"Yeah Weasley?"

"Do you remember that...that night in first year?"

There was an audible snap as Scorpius's quill tip broke from increased pressure. He bit his lower lip, trying to get his pulsing heartbeat under control. "Why?"

Rose didn't seem to catch his change in demeanor. "Don't you ever, you know, think about it?"

_Far too often_. "Sometimes. What's brought this on?"

The red head shrugged, closing her potions books and choosing to look out over the still lake. "Don't know, really. Just reminded of it and I guess I was curious."

_Your curiosity nearly gave me a heart attack_, Scorpius thought to himself. How on earth does one connect a conversation about house placing with such a nightmare? He kept silent rather than respond.

Rose Weasley was a complete mystery to him. Even after the haunting and trying experience he'd spent with her, he was no closer to understanding how her mind worked. Of course, it probably didn't help that they rarely spoke. Although they had turned more cordial to each other afterwards, and despite sharing a mutual friend, they were almost never around one another. Scorpius wasn't sure if they'd continue to get along if they really knew each other; he didn't know for sure. In all honesty, he had had little interest in Rose Weasley. Yet their recent conversation began to make the blond wonder once more.

Nick had tried many times to merge his two sets of friends, hoping for them to form 'one big happy group'. The problem occurred that neither side tried very hard- Scorpius believed that Potter still held a grudge against him from a year and a half ago, and Macraith didn't seem very welcoming. Naturally, Scorpius didn't want to hang around those he felt didn't want him around.

The blond frowned down at his Arithmacy work. Even after more than two years at Hogwarts, he had failed to make any close friends besides Nick MacQuoid. While it was true that his presence in Gryffindor had come to be more accepted, and the hat's sorting choice had since faded to the background of gossip, he still didn't feel quite at home there. Scorpius largely suspected it was due to his lack of companions in his own house. While Nick was a stupendous mate, he was in Ravenclaw, and they could only meet up outside of class in the more public areas during curfew.

Scorpius glanced at the red-head a few feet away. Maybe he should be trying harder to integrate himself among his fellow third-years. He wouldn't call himself a social-bunny, but neither was he a hermit. There were few students he knew by acquaintance, including his room mates. Salux's fear of him had waned, but he continued to avoid Scorpius; he simply wanted nothing to do with air-headed Vincent; Gavin had his own group of friends and was largely out of the dorms; Albus, of course, was part of the company that could always be found with Rose. His fifth room mate, a boy named John, remained as much as a stranger to the Malfoy as he had in first-year, rarely speaking to anyone more than monosyllabic responses.

The blond scratched his head absently. Over time he had repeatedly wondered what it was that was so unappealing about him to other students. Was he a terrible class partner? Did he seem stupid? Was it bad breath? Or was it simply the fact that he was a Malfoy, part of such an unsavory family? He scowled at the thought. It was no more his fault what his father did in his youth than it was his fault for the hat sorting him into the wrong house.

"What's with the frown?"

Scorpius looked up from his position of bending over his book. "Nothing," he grunted.

Rose tilted her head, her blue eyes studying his pale face. "You look tired."

"Thanks?" _Charming_.

"I just meant you don't look like you got much sleep last night," she went on. "You didn't stay up late studying? I thought we agreed that you wouldn't get anywhere in Arithmacy on your own."

"I went to bed," he replied curtly.

"Then why didn't you sleep?" Rose pressed curiously.

Scorpius flinched involuntarily, remembering the reoccurring nightmare that kept waking him every hour the night before. "Stop nagging me, Mom!" he snapped. He wished she would stop pursuing the topic.

Rose pursed her lips and finally went quiet, much to the blond's relief. He turned his attention once more to his textbook, trying to focus on the words before his eyes rather than the images flashing in his mind.

He should have known the red-head would not remain silent long. "Do you-"

"Weasley!" he shouted, exasperated with her unwarranted interrogation. "Just drop it, okay?"

Rose looked shocked at his sudden outburst. How did she miss all the clues that she was touching on a sensitive subject? Scorpius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He suddenly felt exhausted, as if the unexpected frustration had drained what little energy he had left. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Rose had recovered from her shock and gave the faintest of nods. "Maybe we should just study in silence," she suggested frostily.

_Fine by me,_ Scorpius thought to himself. He flipped open the notebook he used to keep track of equations and concepts, doing his best to focus on the scrawled numbers rather than the terrible images of the night's terror.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

"She just doesn't know when to stop!" Scorpius ranted.

It was around six o'clock in the evening of the same day. Nick and he had decided to make a quick run to the library to return some checked-out books before dinner. Currently Scorpius was letting out steam about his frustrations about a certain Weasley girl, recounting the events from earlier.

"Rose means well," Nick replied calmly.

The blond shook his head vigorously. "More like she's just nosey. Couldn't mind her own damn business. Honestly, how do you put up with her on a daily basis?"

The Ravenclaw scrunched his nose, a habit of his whenever he disagreed with a topic of conversation. "Maybe she was just worried about you not getting enough sleep."

"Worried? About me?!"

Nick's hesitation proved to Scorpius that his doubt was real. "Look, mate, I don't know why she was pushing you so hard. Sometimes, yeah, her curiosity can get out of hand. But in her defense, she doesn't know you very well at all and probably didn't catch the vague warning signs. Honestly, I'm more surprise about her opening up about her insecurity."

Scorpius frowned in thought as they entered the library. "It felt awkward," he admitted. "I got the feeling she hadn't really meant to talk about it in the first place, but then she couldn't help but spill her guts."

"Sounds like Rose," his friend affirmed. "She tends to bottle up all her emotions and feelings, then let them spew out on the nearest person she feels comfortable around."

The two entered the library, so Scorpius dropped his voice to a whisper. "So what, she suddenly feels all friendly with me?"

"More likely she realized that if anyone would understand, it'd be you. Rose might not be necessarily 'comfortable' with you, per se, but rather that she believed you wouldn't judge her for her...predicament."

Scorpius only grunted in reply. He didn't want to talk over that subject a second time that day.

His friend, recognizing the signal, smartly changed course in the topic. "So how did Arithmacy study go?" Nick asked, picking his way through the crowded library aisles to the back desk.

"She's good at teaching," Scorpius admitted. "I'll give her that. And she wasn't half-bad to talk to until she veered toward my sleep schedule."

Setting the books down on the librarian's table, they turned back the way they had come. Nick sent him a sympathetic glance. "How's that going?" he asked softly. "Is it improving at all?"

The blond shrugged. "A lot better than it was two years ago. I only get the nightmares every few nights, and the bad sessions are becoming less frequent- once every few weeks now. Last night was the first in awhile."

As they left the library behind for the more sparsely-populated corridor, Nick drew closer to his friend, keeping his voice to a low murmur. "And you still haven't told your parents?"

"No. I don't think it's worth bothering them over. Besides, they might ask the origin of such nightmares, and I don't exactly like the idea of delving into that."

"And what about the other thing?"

Scorpius jerked away slightly from his friend. "No, Nick," he sighed, "I told you, I'm...waiting for the right time."

"What time's that?" the Ravenclaw argued, arms akimbo. "Tomorrow? Next year? After we graduate? Scorpius, the longer you wait, the worse it'll be! Just rip off the band-aid and get it over with."

His friend sighed in response, running his fingers through his pale hair in frustration. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"You never do, and never will- that's the problem!"

"I'll tell my parents," Scorpius promised. "Soon. Just not today, okay? Not with finals and on a lack of sleep. Maybe I'll tell them during the holidays."

The Malfoy could tell Nick wasn't satisfied with the conclusion, but respected it as the end of the topic. "Alright," he grumbled. "Just try not to wait too long."

* * *

**Wonder what Malfoy could be hiding?**

**Finally got a glimpse and some idea of what's gone on since the events in chapter 7! I will, of course, elaborate as time goes on. **

**REVIEWING always makes my day (and motivtaes me to update sooner)! **


	9. AUTHOR NOTE

**Hi everyone!**

**So I'm sure you've been wondering what the hell happened to me and this fanfic. I promised at the very beginning I would see it through to the end and not leave y'all dangling with an unfinished work. Yet I haven't updated in two and a half months, so you're probably thinking, "Yeah, so much for that!"**

**I want to sincerely apologies to all of y'all for being absent and not keeping my promise. There were several factors involved: first, after my chapter 7 update, I received no reviews and my view traffic went down severely, and didn't pick back up in chapter 8. This made me feel like those chapters weren't well received, or that the readers didn't like how the plot was going. This depressed me a bit, which lead to the second factor: during that time, school really started to pick up. It made it hard to find time to write, and even when I did, my muse didn't want to cooperate. The third and final contribution was my lack of knowledge of plot- I only had a very vague idea of where I wanted this tale to go, and that is almost always the downfall of a story. I was pretty much making up 80% of it as I went along.**

**Which lead me to the bad news: I am shutting down this fanfic. **

**The good news? I'm going to reboot it. Yep, you read right, I'm going to re-write Inclination. Why? Well, I honestly do love writing Scorose and the second generation at Hogwarts. I also think what I had going here has a lot of good potential, and given the ideal of fleshing it out with some proper planning, it can still make a great story. **

**I re-read my fic once over again, and have come to determine there's several things I don't like about it. For one was my placement of Scorpius in Gryffindor- I know a lot of people applauded it for being a unique twist, but it just doesn't fit him well at all (in my personal opinion). I really didn't like how I characterized him to be insecure and attention-seeking. I also didn't like how I wrote James. Another thing was how the plot advanced way too quickly. There was practically no sub-storylines going on. So many things about it I couldn't stand in hindsight. **

**The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to re-write this thing. I have a better plot idea in mind now, and have promised myself to make a full outline before I begin writing it (to ensure I don't suffer from lack of idea where to go next). I'm out for summer, so school is no longer a problem. **

**So, readers, expect to see Inclination to pop up again around here soon in the coming days. I may end up changing the name and most definitely will change the summary. There will be some familiar chapters in the sense that while the subject might remain the same, the context and writing of it will not. **

**The easiest way to find out when the new fic is up is by following me. Otherwise, just keep your eyes peeled in the coming week or two!**


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